The White Tree of Hogwarts
by atoz
Summary: When Voldemort travels through a portal that leads to Middleearth, Dumbledore, Harry, and his friends must embark with the Fellowship of the Ring on a quest of vengeance and rescue to seal the fate of two worlds...FINAL CHAPTER OF PART ONE IS UP!
1. Chapter 1

The White Tree of Hogwarts

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings

Author's Note: This story takes place after _Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_, replacing the fifth book (and Harry isn't a jerk in my story; it's one of the many things that I change). And I know a crossover of HP and LotR has been done before, but I swear I'm not trying to copy anyone.

Chapter 1

Plans

Albus Dumbledore swung open the door to his office, glad to find it exactly as he had left it. He strolled over to a far cabinet and tapped his wand on the lock, opening it. After leafing through a pile of papers, he finally found what he had been looking for.

Dumbledore held the paper up and squinted at the faded lettering through his half-moon spectacles. It was a rubbing of a wall engraving. Dumbledore stared at the words; they were written in Latin, but he knew what they meant. "_The key to another world lies within you_…"

That was the line that had puzzled Dumbledore for a very long time.

He pulled something else from the stack of papers in the cabinet. This was a scrap of paper, hastily written many years ago. On it were the words, "Portal: Forbidden Forest?"

This also troubled Dumbledore. He had searched as much of the Forbidden Forest as he could, looking for anything strangely magical that could be called a "portal," but had never found one. He wondered how the person who had written the small note had come to that conclusion.

"_Look inside yourself, and the answers will come…_" Another line from the engraving. If only it were that easy. Apparently it was for the person the passage had been intended.

_And yet_, Dumbledore thought, _he may have forgotten. He may have abandoned the search many years ago._ But he seriously doubted this. More likely, his greatest fear was rapidly coming true.

_If he enters Hogwarts' grounds, I will stop him. And if the engraving is to be taken literally, then the key lies within him, and he probably cannot send a servant out for him…no…he will have to come himself…_

The door to his office suddenly opened. Severus Snape stood in the doorway. The look of boredom on his face was replaced by one of surprise. "I wasn't actually expecting to find you here."

"I have returned," Dumbledore said. "Sit down, Severus."

Snape took another step into the room but did not sit down. "Where were you?"

"Far from civilization."

Snape raised an eyebrow, but knew better to expect him to say more. "Well…the Order has been trying to reach you all night. They retrieved Potter in the evening and brought him to the headquarters."

"There were no problems, I trust?"

"None."

"Very good. Did you meet with the Death Eaters today, as planned?"

"I did. They were…suspicious. They thought I knew of the Dark Lord's plans."

"But you still do not?"

"No. He spoke to me alone, though…warned me that he would be leaving soon, which confirmed all of the rumors I had heard. He did not tell me where he was going, but gave the strong impression that he might have told a few other Death Eaters. I am not certain who they might be."

"None of those just escaped from Azkaban?" Dumbledore asked, looking at Snape over his spectacles. This had proven to be a very eventful July, with the mass breakout of various Death Eaters from Azkaban and Harry's introduction to the Order of the Phoenix, not to mention Voldemort's strange holiday plans and Dumbledore's renewed interest in the notes from the bottom of the far cabinet.

"I am not certain, as I said," Snape said, with only slight annoyance. "I do not believe Bellatrix knows, however…she was pestering me about it the moment the Dark Lord dismissed me, but I am not sure if she was acting or not."

"If you learn any more be sure to tell me as soon as possible. I hardly need to remind you that it is of the utmost importance that we know Lord Voldemort's location at all times."

"Of course."

When Dumbledore did not say anymore, Snape left the office. Dumbledore sighed and returned the scrap of paper and rubbing of the wall engraving to the cabinet, closing it and locking it again. Then he sat down in his headmaster's chair, pondering.

About a half-hour later, he came to the conclusion, _Tomorrow I will go to headquarters, and find Ginny Weasley…_

-------------------------------------------

"My…my Lord?"

"What is it now?"

"I simply ask, my Lord, what it is that you are planning…"

Voldemort rose quickly from his chair and drew his wand. Suddenly he smiled and laughed a cruel laugh. "You know, Wormtail, I may actually need your help with this…"

Wormtail's eyes opened fearfully (he had closed them when cowering before his master). "R-really, m-my Lord? I…I d-didn't think y-you'd need me n-now that you have o-other servants…"

"Stop your stuttering. You remind me of that fool, Quirrel."

"Yes my Lord…"

Voldemort put his wand away and folded his hands behind his back, beginning to pace as he spoke. "I am planning on going away…"

"Yes, I heard…"

Voldemort immediately stopped and eyed him suspiciously. "Heard what?"

Wormtail cringed. "Only rumors, my Lord…the other Death Eaters said you might be leaving…but nobody knew where…"

"I have told no one…but you will find out very soon, if everything goes according to plan. Originally I had not thought to bring any servants with me, but now I am considering bringing a few. I need somebody very faithful to remain in charge while I am gone, however…Severus says the Order has reassembled, and I want somebody I can trust to keep the Death Eaters from falling into their hands. I may be gone for quite some time…"

"You're thinking of me, my Lord?" Wormtail asked in awe.

Voldemort glared at him, then laughed. "You, Wormtail? Of course not! You have shown you are quite capable of being a servant, but only a fool would put you in charge of the Death Eaters. No, you shall accompany me on my journey…with one other."

"Who?"

"I am thinking of Lucius Malfoy."

"But what faithful servant would you leave behind to rule? One of the ones from Azkaban?"

"Perhaps. I am not sure…I was just looking at the old list," Voldemort said, gesturing to a piece of parchment lying on a desk in the room.

"Maybe I can help you," Wormtail said eagerly.

"No, Wormtail. No Death Eater has ever seen the complete list…" he paused, adding lazily, "and did I mention that if anyone but me reads it, their eyes will explode?"

Wormtail whimpered and quickly looked at something else. Voldemort smiled and continued. "Anyway, I believe I will leave the announcement of my stand-in until the very last moment, if at all possible…as long as you do not contribute to these 'rumors' that seem to be going around. If I hear word of my consideration of a temporary replacement, I will kill you."

"I won't say a word," Wormtail promised.

"Now to my more pressing concern…and yes, Wormtail, it is even more important than choosing a leader for the Death Eaters. I am hoping to lure my two greatest enemies into a trap."

"Dumbledore and Harry Potter…but how?"

"I believe there is a link between me and the Potter boy…a link that may allow visual contact."

"What do you mean?"

"I suppose it would be too difficult for you to understand…but using very complicated magic that only one such as I could be capable of, I believe I can show Harry Potter a sort of vision through my eyes…a vision which he will tell Dumbledore of, and which will reveal everything about my whereabouts."

"You want Dumbledore to know?"

"Of course. Because then he will follow me."

"What if he doesn't? What if he sends someone else out instead? You said you'd be gone for a long time, and it's almost August, and school starts in…"

"School?" Voldemort said with a cold laugh. "I offer Dumbledore the chance to destroy me, and you think he would give that up for school?"

"Maybe not…"

"Of course not."

"But still…how are you so certain that the trap will work? How do you know Dumbledore will fall into it?"

"Following me would automatically make him fall into it. Anyway, I would rather not speak any more of it at the moment. I have much to plan…much to accomplish."

Wormtail bowed and scurried out of the room.


	2. Chapter 2: More Secrets

Chapter 2

More Secrets

Harry Potter was sitting at the dinner table in Number 12, Grimmauld Place—headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix—reading the _Daily Prophet_ that had been delivered that morning by Mr. Weasley (it was explained to him that no mail could be seen coming in or out of the house). The article that had captured his interest was one written by a Miss Susan Trenton, who Harry had never heard of until he happened to get bored earlier that summer and actually read one of the articles in the newspaper he usually trashed right after he paid for it and read the headlines. He found her quite interesting; unlike Rita Skeeter, Trenton did not seem to take a clear view on anything, which was rare in the paper that nearly always supported the Ministry now. Harry had the strong feeling that Trenton was a Dumbledore supporter, but for fear of losing her job never said it straight out.

"Anything good in the paper?" Hermione asked anxiously, sitting down next to him and setting Crookshanks the cat on the ground.

"Hmm? Oh…nothing great," Harry said, folding the paper.

"Anything bad in the paper?" Ron asked, sitting on Harry's other side.

"There's always bad things in the paper now, isn't there?" Hermione said. "Especially after that breakout from Azkaban…"

"Where d'you reckon Dumbledore's off to?" Ron asked, as his mother set a plate of breakfast each in front of the three. "I thought he'd come today, seeing as you're here and all, Harry…"

"Dumbledore is a very busy person, Ron, what with the Ministry going crazy and…" Hermione began. Her sentence was cut short by the arrival of Ginny, who sat down next to her and rubbed her eyes sleepily.

"Morning," Ginny said with a yawn.

"Morning," Harry replied.

"_Prophet_ got anything good?" Ginny asked.

"Not really…I was just reading another Trenton article, actually…"

"I like her," Ginny said, sitting up and looking a little less tired as her mother arrived with a plate of food for her. "Dad says she could be Order, but every time he tries to talk to her she finds an excuse to get away before he can saying anything…it's almost like she knows about the Order and she's afraid he'll ask her to join…"

"That's ridiculous," Hermione snapped. "How could anyone who works that closely with the Ministry know about the Order? It's not like your dad or Tonks or Kingsley advertise about it…"

All heads turned as Mrs. Black's portrait screamed from the hallway. Harry winced; he still hadn't gotten used to that. The others were looking hopefully at the doorway to see who had just arrived.

Dumbledore, smiling radiantly, strolled into the dining room. "Good morning," he said.

"Good morning, Professor," all three replied.

"Good morning, Albus," Mrs. Weasley said cheerfully.

"Ah, Molly…I regret that I do not have the time to sample some of your delicious cooking. Unfortunately, I am here on matters of the most urgency, as I always seem to be of late." He turned to the dining table. "Harry…wonderful to see you again. Have you had a pleasant summer holiday thus far?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said, which was a lie. The Dursleys were hardly pleasant. Harry wondered what urgent matter Dumbledore had come to the Order members about, when he remembered that there weren't any Order members there at the moment except for Mrs. Weasley, a man named Dedalus Diggle, and, of course, Sirius, who was not permitted to leave his old house. He immediately concluded that Dumbledore must have come to talk to him, Harry, about some important matter that probably involved Voldemort.

"I would like to speak to you, please."

Harry blinked. Dumbledore had turned and not looked at him when he said this. _Is he really talking to Ginny?_

"Oh…all right," Ginny said nervously, obviously not knowing what this was about.

"Would you like to come to my office, at Hogwarts? There are some things I would like to show you."

Mrs. Weasley turned around; she had resumed cooking, but now was frowning at Dumbledore. "You're taking her to Hogwarts? For how long?"

"The length of our conversation depends on her answers to the questions I will ask her," Dumbledore said. "I do promise not to keep her too long."

"Well," Mrs. Weasley said with a smile, "off you go then, Ginny…"

"Bye," Ginny said to her mother, brother, Hermione, and Harry. She left the room.

Mrs. Weasley frowned again as she resumed her cooking. Hermione was still staring questioningly at the doorway. "How strange," she said, shaking her head. "I wonder what he wants to talk to her about?"

"I thought he was coming to talk to you," Ron said, glancing at Harry.

"Me, too," Harry said.

A few seconds later Sirius came down. Harry had talked to Sirius a lot the previous night. "Morning," Sirius said, sitting down in the chair Ginny had just vacated.

"You missed Dumbledore," Ron said. "He just left."

"Ah, well…" Sirius said with a shrug. Harry wondered if he had heard Dumbledore's arrival and waited until he left to come down. The night before Sirius had given Harry the distinct impression that he and Dumbledore were not getting along.

They ate for a few minutes in silence. Harry stared at his plate, twisting his fork around in the scrambled eggs, until suddenly he felt an unbearable pain in his scar. He cried out and fell over.

He was standing in a room. He could hear a voice speaking, but not to him…

"Be quiet, Draco," Lucius Malfoy hissed. "I did not bring you along to talk at inappropriate times!"

"I am still wondering why you brought him at all," Harry said coldly, suddenly able to see the room around him. "He will serve no useful purpose…"

"Should we really be talking so loudly?" Wormtail asked nervously, glancing around and unconsciously biting his terribly short fingernails. "Couldn't someone hear us?"

"If someone hears us, I can kill them," Harry said simply. He turned to face the sink. "_Open_," he said in Parseltongue.

Harry smiled wickedly as the Chamber of Secrets opened for him. He turned to the others. "You three first."

The Malfoys and Wormtail cautiously entered the Chamber. Harry went on in after them. He tilted his head back and inhaled deeply through his nose, letting it out through his mouth. The Malfoys had their faces scrunched up, and Wormtail had gone so far as to plug his nose because of the smell.

"What about the Potter boy?" Wormtail asked, his voice sounding strange with his nose plugged. "What if he finds out, somehow?"

"He will not," Harry said reassuringly. "And neither will Dumbledore."

"But what if they do?" Lucius asked, concerned. "You know that if they come in, our plans will be completely ruined…"

"They will not come," Harry said, still confident and slightly annoyed. "Even if Dumbledore did discover our location, he would not wish to bring Potter along…and Dumbledore alone cannot stop us."

"Nor Potter alone, if the boy does not tell Dumbledore when he finds out," Lucius pointed out.

"The worst thing would be if Potter brought his friends," Wormtail said.

"His friends?" Lucius said scornfully. "That Mudblood and the blood traitor? What good would they do?"

"There's power in friendship," Wormtail said quietly. "Power that could hurt us. Especially when…"

"You are a fool," Harry spat. "You talk like Dumbledore."

With that, Wormtail was quiet.

Harry navigated the passageways with absolute certainty of his direction. He finally stopped when he came to a blank wall. "This is it," he said, staring at the normal-looking wall. "This is what we have come for…"

-----------------------------

"So you do not remember any other writing being on the walls?"

"I told you, I don't know," Ginny said quietly.

"It is quite all right," Dumbledore said. "Quite all right…"

"Tom did mention something strange, though," Ginny said. "Something that always kind of scared me a little…something about the Chamber of Secrets having more secrets than anyone thought…secrets intended only for the heir to discover…but he wouldn't tell me any more…"

"That is enough," Dumbledore said with a nod. "I assumed these were from the Chamber of Secrets, but I was never entirely certain…the idea that there are more secrets there is not unreasonable…"

"How did you know those messages were from the Chamber, sir?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Well…after I assumed that Tom Riddle opened the Chamber of Secrets, I realized there could be no better place for him to find them. And it mentions the 'key to another world,' as I have explained to you…I do not know where the key is, but I believe Salazar Slytherin knew, which is why he left the information in the Chamber for his heir to discover. And it is a well-known fact that Slytherin disappeared…"

"You think he went to the other world?" Ginny asked in awe.

"If the message is to be taken literally, yes," Dumbledore said.

"Wow…"

The door suddenly slammed open. "Albus," McGonagall gasped out, "Potter is here to…to see you…"

"Allow him in," Dumbledore said calmly, but before he could finish Harry, Ron, and Hermione all ran into the room.

"Professor, I just had a…a vision," Harry panted, sitting down. He looked very pale. Dumbledore glanced at McGonagall, who took the hint that it was time for her to leave but understood the nod that meant she would be well-informed later. She exited the room, closing the door carefully behind her.

"How did you arrive here so quickly, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

There was a rustling noise as an Invisibility Cloak was thrown off. Sirius Black stood in the room. Dumbledore's eyes narrowed.

"I wanted to make sure he got here as fast as possible," Sirius said.

"We didn't want him to come," Hermione said. "But he…"

"There will be time for all of this later," Dumbledore interrupted. "Carry on, Harry."

"Professor…in my vision…there were Death Eaters, and…and…I was Voldemort."

"Ah," Dumbledore said, leaning back in his chair and pressing the tips of his fingers together. "I thought this may happen sooner or later…"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"Your link with Lord Voldemort has just offered you a glimpse into his life. You said there were…"

"Death Eaters, yes. The Malfoys and Wormtail."

Dumbledore saw Sirius jump slightly at the name "Wormtail." "What exactly were the Death Eaters doing, Harry?"

"They were following me…Voldemort, I mean…into the Chamber of Secrets."

Everyone in the room looked shocked except Dumbledore. "They must have had a very clever way of entering the school without being discovered," Dumbledore said quietly. "Certainly they would not be able to stroll in through the front door…I have given orders to be notified immediately if Lucius Malfoy is to be seen anywhere on school grounds, and…"

"There are other ways into the castle," Sirius said impatiently. "Wormtail probably remembered some from his school days. Anyway, when are we going after them? If they're in the Chamber right now then we…"

"I am quite certain that they are no longer in the Chamber, or, for that matter, anywhere in this world," Dumbledore said.

A short pause followed this statement. "How did you know You-Know-Who would do this?" Ginny asked, breaking the silence.

"Inside information told me he was leaving," Dumbledore replied. "I assumed he might be trying to enter the other world, which I always believed to be somewhere on Hogwarts grounds…I thought that the secret of the place was hidden in the Chamber of Secrets, but the entrance itself? That is an idea I never considered…I had thought that magic of such strength would be easily detected…"

"Am I the only one who's lost here?" Ron asked.

"No," Harry said. "Professor, what's…"

"Who cares!" Sirius said angrily. "Voldemort went through the Chamber of Secrets to get to wherever he's going, and we're letting him get away every second we 'discuss' this!"

"I have every intention of following him," Dumbledore said. "Alone."

"No, Professor," Harry said at once.

"Harry, I am afraid…"

"Professor, there was more to the vision."

Dumbledore sat back in his chair. "Continue, then."

"Voldemort was talking to the Death Eaters about the possibility of you coming after them. He said…he said you wouldn't find out, but Malfoy and Wormtail weren't convinced. Then they all agreed that even if you did find out, you alone couldn't stop them, and I alone couldn't stop them, but together we could…and then Wormtail was starting to say something about how much worse off they would be if I brought my friends, because there's power in friendship, but Voldemort interrupted before he could finish…"

"Wormtail spoke of the power of friendship?" Dumbledore asked thoughtfully. "What an interesting comment coming from a man like him."

"I'm still lost," Ron said, shaking his head. "Why is You-Know-Who so afraid of us following him?"

"He is not afraid," Dumbledore said. "But apparently he should be…or at least Wormtail and Lucius Malfoy think so."

"Harry…didn't you say the Malfoys were with You-Know-Who? As in both Lucius and Draco?" Hermione asked.

"Yes," Harry said, nodding. "Both of them were there…Voldemort was angry because Lucius had brought Draco…"

"This is ridiculous!" Sirius said, still very angry with Dumbledore. "Can't we talk about this later, when we're actually trying to stop Voldemort instead of sitting around here doing…"

"Be quiet," Dumbledore said sternly, as though reprimanding a student for talking in class. Sirius looked as though he was strongly considering talking anyway, but he did keep his mouth shut.

"Now then," Dumbledore said, "it would seem we are…"

He was interrupted by a knock on the door. Dumbledore rose from his chair, glancing at Sirius, who hastily put Harry's Invisibility Cloak back on. The others remained where they were.

Dumbledore opened the door. Neville Longbottom was standing there, and behind him, Mr. Weasley.

"Thank you, Arthur," Dumbledore said, blocking their view of the inside of his office. "I will speak with Mr. Longbottom now."

Mr. Weasley nodded and went back down the staircase. Neville stood, looking rather ashamed.

"Mr. Longbottom," Dumbledore said slowly, "who would you consider to be your friends?"

Although they could not see Neville, those inside the office could hear Dumbledore. Hermione, Ron, and Harry exchanged looks, although Ron still looked rather confused.

"I don't really have many friends, Professor," Neville said, in hardly more than a whisper. "Sometimes…sometimes Hermione Granger helps me out in class…and I share a dormitory with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley and Dean T…"

"That is quite enough, Mr. Longbottom," Dumbledore said with a warm smile. "How would you like to accompany me on a little task I would like to finish before term begins?"

Ron suddenly seemed to understand. He looked at Harry, frantically shaking his head and mouthing the word "no." Harry nodded, hoping for the same answer.

Unfortunately, neither got what they wanted. "I would love to, Professor!" Neville said, shocked.

"Very good," Dumbledore said. "Many things will need to be explained to you first, and I am afraid I simply do not have the time just this moment. However, I would be much obliged if you could find Professor McGonagall for me. Tell her to come to my office…and you can wait for me in hers."

Neville nodded and left.

Dumbledore walked back into the office, closing the door behind him. Sirius once again pulled off the Invisibility Cloak.

"Professor," Hermione said nervously, "I really don't think Neville Longbottom would be the best person to…"

"Your concern is noted, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said with a note of finality, but he was smiling.

It only took a few minutes for Professor McGonagall to arrive. Sirius didn't have enough time to put on the cloak before she came in (she didn't knock), and she gasped when she saw him. Dumbledore interrupted before she could yell at him. "I need you to go back to headquarters," he said. "Find…let's see…Miss Tonks and Mr. Lupin, please. And bring them here."

"Nymphadora is probably at the Ministry now," McGonagall said slowly, "and Remus…"

"I need them here as fast as you can bring them," Dumbledore said. "If they are not at headquarters, find out where they are and get them to me at once."

McGonagall nodded, astonished but ready to do what he asked. She left.

"Are they going to come with us?" Harry asked.

"They will go into the next world," Dumbledore said, "but not with us. Our main concern will be following Voldemort. They will have a different, and probably more difficult, task…" he paused and looked at Sirius. "You will go with them."

"What are we going to do?" Sirius asked.

"While we concentrate on following Voldemort, you will concentrate on finding wizards," Dumbledore said. "I have absolutely no idea what this other world will be like, but if it is anything like our own, the wizards may be hidden. It will be your job to get to these wizards and warn them of the danger of Voldemort. I will not leave it to these people to discover for themselves what terrible things Voldemort can do."

"And what if there are no wizards?" Sirius asked.

"Do whatever you can to warn the people anyway."

Sirius didn't seem to like this order very much, but he didn't complain; clearly he was too excited at the prospect of leaving his house for a while.

"It may be some time before Minerva is able to bring Tonks and Lupin here," Dumbledore said. "Sirius…I need you to wait here for them. If anyone knocks on the door, do not answer it."

"What if it's McGonagall?" Sirius asked.

"She knows how pressing this matter is. She will not knock, I assure you. As for you…" he turned to Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. "I am going to the Owlrey to send messages to your guardians notifying them of your expected absence for a few days to possibly even a week or two. I will not, however, tell them of our quest…I will merely state that it is very important that you all come."

"Mum will never let us go," Ron said. "She'd probably try to kill you first."

"We will be long gone by the time the letter arrives," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Anyway, while I am sending the letters, you shall go to Professor McGonagall's office and notify Neville Longbottom of the situation. Tell him everything you know about it. I will meet you there, and then we shall go to the girl's bathroom on the second floor together."

"Wait a second," Sirius said. "So I wait here until Remus and Tonks come, and then…"

"You go to the Chamber of Secrets," Dumbledore said. "We will leave it open for you."

"How do I close it once we go in?" Sirius asked.

Dumbledore thought for a moment. "I shall give special instructions to Minerva telling her to block off that bathroom at all costs. Hopefully we will not be in this other world for very long."

With that, Dumbledore walked to the other side of the office. "Let us begin!"


	3. Chapter 3: Welcome to Middleearth

Author's Note: Thank you Fk306 animelover, Suuki-Aldrea, mr.crusty, Brownie/Melody, Rick Summon, and everyone else who has read and enjoyed my story!

Chapter 3

Welcome to Middle-earth

"_Open_," Harry said in Parseltongue.

The sinks moved apart, revealing the opening to the Chamber of Secrets. Dumbledore jumped in immediately, followed by Hermione, Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Neville (who was still somewhat stunned after everything Dumbledore had told him). "Lead on, Harry," Dumbledore said.

Harry went the exact way he remembered Voldemort going. Ginny, Ron, and Neville kept jumping at every strange sound, clearly nervous that the basilisk would pop out at any moment. Dumbledore reassured them. "Harry most definitely killed that vile creature."

Finally Harry reached the wall that looked like solid stone. "This is it," he said. "Voldemort went through this…" he paused, staring at a tiny engraving of a snake that could not possibly have been visible unless someone was looking for it. "_Open_," Harry said again.

The engraving slithered off. Harry stared at the wall. Nothing happened.

"Is there a reason we are all standing around?" Dumbledore asked calmly.

"What else are we supposed to do, Professor?" Hermione asked.

Dumbledore stepped up to the wall…and went right through it.

"Just like Platform Nine and Three-Quarters," Ginny commented, as each of the others stepped through.

The next room took their breath away. Rather than being bleak, like the rest of the Chamber, this room was lit up by a brilliant light emanating from a pure-white tree at the center. Everyone stared at the tree in awe and silence. Then Dumbledore spoke. "This is it, then…this is the portal…and the tree is just wide enough for a person to walk through it…most likely, that is what we are to do…" he paused and glanced at the ground next to the tree.

Three wands were lying on the ground, evenly spaced from one another. Dumbledore looked slightly puzzled. He picked one up and studied it for a moment. "Lucius Malfoy," he mumbled.

"He left his wand?" Hermione asked incredulously. "Why would anyone want to…"

"I suggest we do the very same," Dumbledore said. "They would not have left their wands unless they absolutely had to."

"But maybe it was a trick," Ginny said. "To get us to think we had to leave our…"

"Wait here," Dumbledore said. "I shall be right back."

Dumbledore ran off through the wall at a speed that surprised the others.

"What should we do?" Ginny asked. Meanwhile, Ron stooped over and picked up Draco Malfoy's wand.

"I think I'll break it," he said, grinning.

"Ron, no!" Hermione cried. "I have an idea."

Hermione snatched Draco's wand and threw it at the tree. For a moment, it disappeared. Then it came flying back out and landed right next to Lucius's wand, where it had been before Ron picked it up.

"Dumbledore was right. We can't bring our wands through."

"Voldemort's wand isn't here, though," Harry said. "See? There's the two Malfoys' and Wormtail's. Voldemort's isn't there."

"Maybe it's because he's a Parselmouth," Ron said.

"I seriously doubt that has anything to do with it," Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

"I think he might be right," Harry said. He pulled out his wand, and, crossing his fingers, threw it into the tree.

It came flying back out, landing next to Draco Malfoy's.

"Well, I guess the rest of us should just put our wands there, then," Neville said.

Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville all set their wands down, and everyone had to wait a few more minutes for Dumbledore, who came hurrying back in. When he saw their wands sitting on the floor, he put his there as well. Harry thought he saw a glint of something on his belt, but then his cloak covered it.

"Are we ready?" he asked.

Everyone looked around at one another. Nobody really knew how to answer that question.

"Let us begin!" Dumbledore cried, stepping up to the tree and then walking through it.

Dumbledore, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville found themselves in a forest. They looked back; behind them, the white tree glowed faintly, not even half as bright as it had seemed to in the dark chamber. Everyone's attention turned to the trees around them. "This place looks a lot like the Forbidden Forest," Ron said, wondering if that was where they were.

"It does indeed," Dumbledore agreed. "Come along now. We must make haste if we are to catch Lord Voldemort!"

The travelers tripped and stumbled there way past various trees, searching in vain for a sign that they were actually going somewhere. Dumbledore seemed very enthusiastic for one so lost; he hummed and even started whistling as they blindly made their way along.

"I hope we find some sign of civilization soon," Ron muttered.

-----------------------

In a land called Rivendell, not altogether far from where Dumbledore and his companions were trekking through the woods, Elrond Halfelven stared blankly over his balcony, the power in his ring coursing through him and linking with another…

"Galadriel," Elrond said, his voice magically carrying over to her. "What is it you want now?"

"Have you felt it, Elrond?"

"Felt what?"

Elrond was more than just a little annoyed. His talks with his mother-in-law usually drained him considerably, and most of what she said didn't make sense. Today her voice was as mystical as ever. It wasn't a good sign.

"Have you felt the power that has returned?" Galadriel asked.

"Returned? Look, we already discussed this, and you know my opinion. Even if the Enemy is in Mordor, he still doesn't have any power, and…"

"You are blind to what is going on in Mordor. But that is not what I was referring to."

"Oh really? What other power has returned, then?"

"I am surprised you have not sensed it yourself."

"You sense a lot of strange things, Galadriel. Are you sure this…"

"He walks again."

Elrond sighed. _This is ridiculous. I'm going to miss the feast._ "Who walks again?"

"The One who I have been prophesizing would return for a very long time."

"You've prophesized a lot of absurd things. How can you expect me to remember every…"

"The Magician of Men, Elrond. He Who is Forgotten."

"I remember He Who is Forgotten," Elrond said, a little nervously. He realized how funny this must have sounded, but held back from laughing because he knew Galadriel was not in a laughing mood.

"He shall not be forgotten for long," Galadriel said. "The High Elves shall be forced to remember, for He has returned."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I am sure!"

"Galadriel, I really hate to disappoint you, but the Magician of Men was a mortal. He _died_."

"He is here!"

"He can't be, it doesn't make any…"

"I swear to you, it is true!"

"Okay," Elrond said quickly, before Galadriel could get really angry. "Okay…let's say you're right, and he has somehow returned. It could be a good thing, right? We can let him vanquish our enemies for us, and then…"

"You fool!" Galadriel hissed. "He must be stopped! If he was to obtain the ring…"

"The ring was lost."

"It could still be found!"

"It went into the Sea long ago, like Saruman said."

"Saruman is even more of an idiot than you! If I had had my way, Gandalf would have been Head of the Council!"

"Gandalf is too busy smoking with the hobbits to…"

"Gandalf is more intelligent than…"

"Fine! Whatever! I really don't want to have this argument right now, okay?"

"You have always been a fool matters of great importance!"

Over in Lothlorien, Celeborn heard the shouting and hurried over to where he knew his wife's magic mirror was. Galadriel was standing in a frightening pose, her eyes half closed and her arm outstretched over the mirror. "When have my predictions ever been wrong?" she demanded.

"Never!" Celeborn said, taking a step back. When Galadriel didn't say anything, Celeborn realized she must be talking to someone else. _Probably Elrond_, he thought. _She likes to call him up and yell at him late at night._

Suddenly Galadriel's arm dropped and her eyes opened. "Cele…born?" she said, blinking.

"Er…I was just wondering…how you were," Celeborn said, wringing his hands nervously.

Galadriel beamed at her mentally challenged husband. "I'm fine."

"Well…uh…see you then."

Celeborn scurried off.


	4. Chapter 4: Newcomers and Outcasts

Chapter 4

Newcomers and Outcasts

Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Nymphadora Tonks stood in a forest. Looking behind him, Lupin saw the white tree. He sighed. "I suppose we had better get moving," he said, looking around. He was still experiencing relief that, after walking through a tree into another world without knowing what to expect, he had found himself in a place suitable for human life.

Sirius was the first to walk away from the tree. Lupin and Tonks looked longingly back at it, but Sirius laughed. "Oh, _come on_. You don't _really_ wish you were back there instead of here, do you? This is an adventure! We're in some unknown place! Don't you two want to explore and find things nobody from our world has ever seen before?"

Lupin smiled. "All right, we're coming."

Tonks felt very nervous. She had worked with both of the two men before, but felt inferior to them in a way. They were both in the original Order of the Phoenix, and she felt young and out-of-place. They were also best friends, and she didn't feel right joining in on any conversations they had. She decided to just walk along in silence.

Lupin was also nervous. Sirius may be having fun wandering around in some unknown world, but even after his relief at not appearing in the middle of some volcano, he felt extremely vulnerable. They had been forced to leave their wands behind, and they had nothing to defend themselves with. A quick test proved that they couldn't Apparate, either. _Apparently this world doesn't have magic,_ Lupin thought wearily. Then, suddenly, an idea formed in his mind. _No magic…then that could mean…but…wait…_

"Tonks?"

"What!" Tonks asked, looking quite startled. "Were…were you talking to me?"

"Are you paranoid, or something?" Sirius asked from far ahead.

Tonks glared at him. She felt much more comfortable with Sirius than Lupin, although she wasn't sure why.

"I wanted to ask you a question," Lupin said.

"Okay."

"Can you change your hair color?"

Tonks screwed up her face. Lupin wasn't sure if she was concentrating or just looking at him funny. The latter proved correct. "Why?"

"Just wondering."

Tonks hesitated. _This is a little weird…why should he care what my hair looks like?_

"What do you want it to look like?" Tonks asked.

"I really don't care," Lupin replied.

"Okay…"

This time Tonks screwed up her face in concentration. Her hair changed from spiked and bubble-gum pink to long, wavy, and blonde.

Lupin looked disappointed. "You don't like it?" she asked.

"It's fine," Lupin said with a quick smile. "Sirius!"

"Yes?" shouted a voice from far ahead.

"Come here!"

"All right!"

Sirius weaved his way through the trees until he found Lupin. "What is it?"

"Can you transform here?"

"Good question," Sirius said. He thought for a moment, then turned into a dog. He turned back after running around in a circle once.

"Interesting that it works here, but Apparation doesn't," Sirius said thoughtfully.

"Yes," Lupin replied. He looked even more disappointed now, but Sirius didn't notice. He turned back into a dog and dashed ahead, barking.

"What's wrong?" Tonks asked Lupin.

"Just…wondering if those things would work."

"You look disappointed, though."

"I'm not, actually, just…don't get me wrong. I'm very happy that those things worked. If we are faced with a dangerous situation we have a very effective way of defending ourselves."

"Yeah…but then why are you upset?"

"I don't know. I was just hoping…just hoping…well, we won't be gone for very long, anyway."

There was a pause. "Is Dumbledore sure there are people here?" Tonks asked, breaking the silence. "I mean, so far we haven't seen any traces."

"I'm sure there are…"

"Moony! Over here!"

Lupin started running over in the direction of Sirius's voice. Tonks followed. "What did he call you?" she asked.

Lupin did not answer.

Sirius stood right in front of a road.

It wasn't exactly a road. It was much more like an old dirt path. But it was definitely made by someone.

"Somebody's been here," Sirius said, looking down at the footprints. "Recently."

"Then Dumbledore and the others were able to find the road," Tonks said brightly.

"I don't want you running ahead anymore, Sirius," Lupin said warningly, not convinced the footprints were of Dumbledore and the others.

"Ah, Moony, you know I wouldn't run too far ahead…"

"What is that you call him?" Tonks asked.

"Moony," Sirius repeated.

"Why?"

"Nickname," Lupin said, smiling. He looked at Sirius. "Lead the way, Padfoot."

Sirius laughed and started to walk along the road in the direction of the footprints.

----------------------------------------

The blazing sun beat down on the backs of the men lined up, waiting for orders. They did not mind the sun; they were used to it. But impatience grew quickly.

Finally, a man appeared at the top of a dune close in front of them. They stood higher at attention.

The man was, by most standards, fearful-looking. But the skull on the staff he held did not bother the men, nor did the red war paint—quite possibly made in part of human blood—smeared all over his body. Even the bone body piercing all over him did not frighten them. To the men, he was a hero.

Next to him emerged an even taller man, with a bone necklace and a large earring. A foreigner might have thought he was the leader, judging by his size, but the war paint smeared on him was in different designs. It showed that, not only was he second captain, he was a holy man.

The priest was the one who spoke, and his deep, booming voice echoed all through the open sky. "You have left your homes, your families, your people. Soon, you shall even leave Harad. You are willing to do this. Why?"

The wind caused many flags held by some of the men to flutter, and the cape the holy man wore flapped behind him, giving him an even more majestic appearance.

"_Freedom_," the holy man continued, staring hard at the men. "Freedom from the slavery of Mordor!"

There was a rousing cheer.

When it had quieted, the leader stepped forward. His voice was not as booming, but his heart was in his words. "The Sun King smiles down upon on this day! We shall depart, not with fear, but with hope—hope that one day, our people can not only be free from Mordor, but looked upon with respect by the men of Gondor and all the other kingdoms of this earth. Harad shall become great again!"

The cheer was deafening. The few men that stood before the leader and the priest shouted as loud as they could, rattling spears lined with bones.

The leader smiled upon his small army of rebels. He raised a curved sword, turned around, and pointed it in the opposite direction. "To the west!" he cried.

"To the west!" the men chanted in reply.

As they marched along the holy man approached the leader. "You have made the right choice, Zendar," he said in his deep voice.

"Thank you, Nurza. But I still…" Zendar swallowed. "He shall not be forgotten," he said in a choked voice. "Never. There will always be a place in my heart where he one was."

"I know. But looking down from the Path of the Twin Mountains in the Land of the Sun King he smiles upon you, Zendar. He sees the error of his ways."

"He only wanted to free his people," Zendar said quietly.

"And freedom will come to his people," Nurza replied. "Through you, his brother, his blood."

"Are you sure I am doing the right thing?"

"Yes."

Zendar smiled. Ever since they met, Nurza had a strange way of making him feel better. "All right," he said, sheathing his sword, which had still been out. He took a deep breath. "West. To the place where the Sun King sleeps, and the Unknown Lands."


	5. Chapter 5: Breaking Apart and Coming

Chapter 5

Breaking Apart and Coming Together

Wormtail awoke suddenly. The sun had barely risen. He turned and saw the Malfoys still lying asleep next to him. Looking around, he couldn't find any trace of Voldemort.

"Lord?" he said nervously. "My Lord, are you…"

"The destination awaits."

Wormtail heard the strange voice. It was coming from behind a tree not far away. Wormtail hurried to the voice and saw his master leaning against a large oak tree. Voldemort had a strange look in his eyes, and he acted as though he didn't see Wormtail.

"My Lord?" Wormtail said nervously.

"They know," he continued, now speaking in almost a whisper. "They have waited, and now they know. They will be looking for me. She knew I would return. If we do not reach the destination, she will find me…"

Voldemort looked like he was in a Seer's trance. It was incredible, yet scary.

Voldemort swayed. Then he toppled over and fell to the ground.

"Master!" Wormtail cried, fearing the worst. _What would I do if he died here? I would be trapped here with the Malfoys…_

"Wormtail," Voldemort moaned.

He was no longer the powerful Dark Lord. He was shaking, helpless, and desiring Wormtail's care as he once had before his return to life.

"Master," Wormtail whimpered, "Master…I will do anything…what happened?"

Voldemort looked up at the sky, as though expecting an answer. "His spirit lingers here," he said. Even though he tried to hide it, the fear in Voldemort's voice was noticeable.

"Who?" Wormtail asked.

Voldemort sighed. "You shall learn…later. Now we must go."

"I will wake the Malfoys…"

"No."

Wormtail frowned. "My Lord…"

"They will slow us down. If we continue with them, we will not get there in time."

"Get where?"

"I will leave instructions for them," Voldemort decided, pulling out his wand. "They will have to wait to join us…perhaps they may even be useful…"

Nearly an hour later, Draco Malfoy woke up. He saw that Wormtail and Voldemort had left, and he also saw a piece of paper on the ground. Draco quickly shook his father. "Get up! They're gone!"

Lucius awoke, then looked around. "What!"

"They left a message," Draco said, picking up the paper. "'Malfoy, I have a task for you,'" he began to read…

--------------------------------------------------

Frodo Baggins hesitated. He was hopelessly lost.

"I told you to go the other way!" Pippin said angrily.

"_You_ said we should go left a few hours ago, and that brought us back to the beginning!" Merry retorted.

"Well, it's not like you're doing a very good job!" Pippin said.

"I'm doing a better job than you'd ever do!" Merry protested.

"Enough!" Frodo said wearily. "Why don't we split up? I'll go left with Sam, and you two can go right. We'll meet up back here to talk about what we found."

It sounded simple enough, but Merry didn't like it. "We'll get lost and never find one another. And there's no way we'll ever find this spot. The trees won't like it."

"You and your trees again!" Pippin snorted. "Every time something bad happens you blame it on the trees! You know what? Maybe when I told you to go left a few hours ago, the trees got angry and blocked the way, so it wasn't my fault! Maybe the trees are actually…"

"I've heard of the trees, too," Sam said darkly.

Merry sighed. Sam's stories about the trees were a bit more animated than his own.

"We know you have," Pippin said.

"But you don't believe me," Sam said. "Not only do they move…they _talk_. And they don't just move a little. They _walk_."

"I don't hear anyone talking except you three," Frodo said impatiently. "Now I think we should move out."

"Sorry Mr. Frodo," Sam said. "Let's go."

Merry and Pippin were arguing quite a bit. Pippin went from blaming Merry for the fact that they were lost to accusing Merry of stealing vegetables from him. "I never took that carrot!" Merry protested.

"Yes, you did! You took it while I was asleep! I woke up and it was gone!"

"It was gone because you ate it, Pippin! I…"

Merry suddenly stopped.

"What?" Pippin demanded. Following Merry's eyes, he found…a road.

It was much wider and more pronounced than the tiny path they had followed in the beginning, and Merry and Pippin were both sure they had just found the way out. "Wow!" Pippin cried. "This fast?"

"I told you I was going the right way," Merry said.

"Well, if you're so smart, go back and find Frodo and Sam to bring them here. I'll wait for you."

"Are you sure you'll be there when I get back?"

"I won't move. Now go."

Merry shrugged and went to find their two other companions.

Pippin was excited. The reason why he wanted Merry to leave was he found something interesting and didn't want Merry to scold him for being curious. Pippin knelt down next to the road—and, sure enough, saw footprints.

Hobbits usually didn't go into the Old Forest, and the "Big People," as they were called, also tended to stay away from it. Pippin hadn't met very many Big People, and unless he was mistaken, these footprints belonged to them.

Pippin also knew that the footprints were relatively fresh. He ran ahead as fast and as quietly as he could, not wanting to be gone when Merry came back with Frodo and Sam. It was only about five minutes of running before he heard laughter.

"AAAHHH! It's attacking me!"

Ron struggled as he tried to free himself of a cute little squirrel that was crawling all over him and dodging his attempts to get it away. Hermione and Ginny giggled, while Neville and Harry laughed. Even Dumbledore smiled as he sat in the background, watching.

"NOOO!" Ron cried. More squirrels had come to join their friend.

While they all watched Ron, nobody had the slightest notion that something else was watching him. Dumbledore could tell that they were not alone, and glanced around, not worried but still on his guard.

"GET THEM OFF ME!" Ron cried.

"You might try standing still," a bush suggested.

Everyone froze, including Ron. When he did, the squirrels got bored and scampered away.

Dumbledore stood up. The thing that had just spoken came out from behind the bush. At first Dumbledore thought it was a small child. Then he saw its furry feet and realized it had to be something he had never seen before. He was also quickly intrigued by the fact that it understood their language. He wasn't the only one. Hermione was amazed with this more than anything.

"Hello," she said. "You speak English?"

"English?" the thing repeated. "I speak Westron."

"Who are you?" Dumbledore asked.

"Peregrin Took, hobbit of the Shire," Pippin said with a bow. "But my friends call me Pippin."

"The Shire," Dumbledore repeated. "Is that where we are?"

"Not exactly, sir. The Old Forest is the borderland of the Shire…but how could you come all this way and not know that?"

"We are lost," Dumbledore explained. "We come from far away, and we are searching for a wizard. Do you know of any?"

Dumbledore knew he was taking a chance. If this was a Muggle area, this "hobbit" would have no idea what he was talking about and might dismiss him for a maniac. But Pippin actually looked excited when he said it. "Oh, yes!" he cried. "In fact, we're meeting up with one soon!"

"Who is he?" Dumbledore asked.

"Gandalf the Grey, the best wizard in Middle-earth! You've heard of him, right?"

"I believe I have," Dumbledore lied. He lied so well, however, that even Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville wondered if he really did know of this wizard. "Could you take us to him?"

"Certainly," Pippin said, bowing again. "Just let me find my friends first."

Pippin ran off.

"That guy was short," Ron commented.

"He said he was a 'hobbit'," Hermione said. "I wonder…"

"Is their wizard a hobbit, too?" Neville asked.

"Maybe," Harry said. "'Gandalf the Grey' is a pretty strange name…"

"I liked Pippin," Ginny said. "He was nice. He didn't ask us any suspicious questions or anything. I think he trusts us already."

"Either that, or he's lying," Ron said. "Maybe his 'friends' that he's going to go get are really a bunch of trolls coming to kill us…"

"I doubt that," Dumbledore said.

Ron hesitated. He still wasn't used to talking freely around Dumbledore, and he would not have said this last comment if he had remembered the headmaster of his school was right behind him.

It did not take long for Pippin to return to the place where he had agreed to wait for Merry, Frodo, and Sam. Surprisingly enough, the three came almost right after he got back.

"Come on!" Pippin said hurriedly. "I want to show you something!"

"So you _did_ leave while I was gone," Merry said.

"Just follow me!"

Ron, who had doubted Pippin being "just a cute little hobbit," was relieved when he returned with three other hobbit friends.

Dumbledore and Hermione both looked at the four closely. Hermione carefully noted their expressions as they introduced themselves. Pippin Took was excited, Merry Brandybuck was apprehensive, Sam Gamgee was shy, and Frodo Underhill was grateful for the company and yet ready to move on. Dumbledore had to stop evaluating them when he introduced himself and the rest of their party, but Hermione continued to note the hobbits' habits, and noticed quite a few things.

The first thing she figured out was that even though Merry and Pippin argued quite a bit they weren't enemies any more than she and Ron were when they argued. The second thing she noticed was that Sam kept bowing his head and offering to take things from Frodo, who he called "Mr. Frodo." She figured this was more than shyness, and as his servile attitude was directed toward Frodo alone, she assumed Sam probably worked for Frodo, even though Frodo had introduced Sam as his friend.

The third thing she noticed was the strangest thing. Frodo kept nervously putting his right hand in his pocket, and whenever he did, it seemed to relieve his stress. She also found out that he hesitated when asked certain questions. He even hesitated when saying his name, as though he didn't want them to know. She knew he was hiding something, but decided if they traveled together for a little while maybe he would reveal it.

"We're meeting Gandalf at a place called Bree," Merry explained to Ginny and Neville, who listened intently. They had begun to walk again. "It's a little ways to the east…we come from the Shire, which is just west of here. Bree is a fun place…"

"The best ale this side of the Misty Mountains!" Pippin cried, jumping in on the conversation.

"I don't think they care, Pippin," Merry said flatly.

"Sure we do," Ron said, also butting in. Hermione, who had been listening, eyed him suspiciously.

"What?" Ron demanded.

"Nothing," Hermione said with a sigh.

"So, where do you come from?" Merry asked, interested. "I thought you might have been from Bree, but when you didn't have the accent, I decided you probably weren't. And you don't have Bree names, either."

"We're from much farther east," Hermione said.

"Then what brings you all the way over here?" Pippin asked in surprise.

"The wizard," Hermione said, trying to sound calm. "We wanted to meet one…a good one…and we heard about one who was really good and decided to try and find him. I suppose he's your Gandalf." Hermione recalled that Dumbledore had not mentioned they were all wizards for safety.

"Yeah, Gandalf is a great wizard," Merry said. "I don't know any others, but I still know he's good. There are others…aren't there, Pippin?"

"You'd have to ask Frodo," Pippin said.

Hermione decided this was a good idea. She walked over to Frodo. "Are there any wizards other than Gandalf?" she asked.

"Bilbo said that Gandalf mentioned a council of wizards once," Frodo replied. "I do not know any others, though. Gandalf certainly does. You can ask him when we meet him."

"All right," Hermione replied, glad that Dumbledore had declined to mention the fact that they were all wizards. _There certainly don't seem to be very many. Voldemort won't have a hard time controlling this place, but he will have a hard time recruiting new servants._

Dumbledore, who had been listening, noted what Frodo said, and how he kept clutching his pocket every time there was a rustling in the bushes or a strange sound from some animal in the forest. He also decided he would remember the name "Bilbo" just in case this person (or hobbit) was important in the future.

And so the ten walked along, glad for the company, but the threats surrounding them still present in their minds.


	6. Chapter 6: Around the Hills

Chapter 6

Around the Hills and Through the Fog

The company of ten—Dumbledore, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin—took their time along the road, stopping often to eat, as hobbits so loved to do. When they reached the foggy, menacing hills of the barrow downs, they decided to go around them rather than risk going through them.

Merry and Pippin were a constant source of laughter among the group. Everyone enjoyed their company, but none more than Ginny and Neville, who spent more time with the hobbits than anyone else, singing songs and trading stories…although not being too specific.

But while both groups were traveling together, neither asked too many questions about one another's journey. The hobbits spoke little of their mysterious quest across country to meet a wizard, and Dumbledore said absolutely nothing of their purpose other than that they had to find a wizard to speak to about matters concerning the things now happening in Middle-earth. Frodo was as vague as Dumbledore on details, and neither bothered one another with questions they wouldn't be able to answer themselves. But both groups knew the other was hiding something.

Frodo saw that Harry was on guard all of the time, just like Frodo, as though he was expecting something terrible to happen. Frodo did not try to think too much about what might be following their friends. He had enough on his mind with the Black Riders that had followed him before he entered the Old Forest, and although he had not spoken to the others about them, he did not doubt they would show up sooner or later. But he would wait until they did to explain.

Hermione was convinced more than anyone, even Dumbledore, that what Frodo was hiding was more than just a bit of gold in his pocket. She knew he expected danger as much as they did, and wondered if he was guarding what he carried from some unknown danger that could appear at any moment. The others thought Frodo to be strange, too, seeing as he did not talk much. Harry and Ron, who spent most of their time talking to each other, spoke to Merry and Pippin little and Frodo and Sam even less.

It was a cold day in the woods, and Hermione was watching Frodo closely. She did not know Frodo could see her staring at him. She also did not know that other people had noticed.

"Hermione," Ron whispered to her, "why are you always staring at him?"

Hermione stopped walking and waited until the others passed them. "There's something odd about him," she said, walking very slowly. "Something I can't figure out."

"You're not the only one who thinks so," Ron said darkly. "I…I get the strangest feeling when I'm near him…I can't explain it. I just feel…strange. It scares me. I try to keep away from Frodo as much as possible. It's like he's…I dunno…"

"I know exactly what you mean," Hermione said. "But what is it about these people? They're just hobbits. Pippin said hobbits hardly ever leave the Shire. And yet they're leaving…to meet a wizard."

"Do you think Frodo might be a wizard?" Ron asked hopefully. "Maybe that's what's so weird about him."

"No, that makes no sense," Hermione said, shaking her head. "We told him we were looking for a wizard. He would have said something."

"But maybe hobbits aren't supposed to be wizards, or…or maybe he isn't a hobbit, he's a wizard in disguise…"

"Oh, _sure_," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "He's just a really short wizard with hairy feet."

"But maybe he's taking Polyjuice Potion or something! And maybe Merry and Pippin don't even know! Sam might know, though, he seems pretty loony…you know how he's always treating Frodo like he's a servant? Just like the Death Eaters would treat You-Know-Who?"

"Come off it, Ron," Hermione said sharply. "The last time we stopped Sam told me his family has been working for Frodo's family for generations. He said he gardens for him. It's not like he worships Frodo."

"But he does! I swear, Hermione! Sam's always helping Frodo do everything…it's too much of a coincidence…Maybe Frodo is actually some Dark Lord, and Sam is his faithful servant, and Merry and Pippin are really good actors, and…oh! Oh, maybe Frodo is actually a Death Eater!"

"_Ron_!"

"No, really! He's taking Polyjuice Potion to look like a hobbit…"

"And do what?"

"Lead us into a trap!"

"Frodo is hiding something. I don't deny it. But I highly doubt that Frodo is evil. Now if you want to make up silly stories then you can talk to Harry about them, because you're not convincing me."

------------------------------------------------

"Ah," Sirius said, frowning.

In the morning, the sky had been clear blue, but as they headed unknowingly eastward, a fog had begun to settle upon everything. Sirius had just found its source.

A set of hills was before them, so thick with fog that Sirius doubted he would be able to see two feet in front of him if he dared to walk into them. "Road keeps going through," he said, turning to face Tonks and Lupin.

Tonks stared at the hills, then turned to Lupin. "What do you think, Moony?" she asked, calling him by his nickname. She had been doing it for a few hours now, and was beginning to feel more comfortable around the two men.

"I don't know," Lupin said truthfully. "Looks pretty dangerous."

"I say we keep going along the road," Sirius said.

"I say we decide now, because if we're going to go around the fog we'll waste a lot of time," Tonks put in.

"And I say…" Lupin paused, realizing the weight of the decision had been placed on him.

"Come on," Sirius said, smiling. "Just some fog. The only living thing we've run into is a squirrel. What harm can there be in there?"

"All right," Lupin said with a sigh. "We go through."

They started to walk in. Sirius had never once expected the fog to be magical. But when he reached a large statue about five minutes later, he discovered what it was about the fog that made it so frightening.

"Hey!" he said. "Look at those things on that statue…what are they?"

But when he looked around him, there was nobody there.

Sirius hesitated. They had been walking in a straight line. There was no way anyone could have gotten lost, and he didn't hear any cries for help.

"HELLO?" Sirius shouted.

"HELLO?"

Sirius frowned. _Was that just an echo?_

"REMUS? TONKS?"

"REMUS? TONKS?"

_What do I do now? This was a stupid idea, we should have gone around it…_

Sirius kept walking straight, pausing to call out names. He couldn't see anything around him, so he didn't actually know whether he was making any progress. He also couldn't see the sun, so he had no idea how much time had passed before something finally did happen.

Sirius came upon a pile of boulders. He breathed a sigh of relief; even though he had been going straight, he couldn't help but wonder whether or not he had been walking around in circles.

He walked right up to them, and fell into the ground, instantly knocked unconscious.

The first thing Sirius did when he regained consciousness was flash open his eyes. _I'm lying on my back._ There was blackness all above him. But it was more comforting than the grey of the fog. And he was lying on something hard.

Then Sirius realized that he was holding something with both hands. When he lifted his head, he saw that it was a sword hilt, encrusted with jewels. Looking to his left, he saw another rectangular block of stone, the perfect size for a man to lie down on, and then on his right he saw another, with a body—unrecognizable because of the darkness—lying on it.

Sirius almost sat up, ready to run to it, but there was something lurking in the darkness to the left of him, something beyond the empty stone slab.

He heard snarls, and a series of hissing sounds that had to be a language of some sort. Sirius had no idea whether or not it was human. Then a fire was lit, and he could see the shadow of a creature doing what appeared to be dancing in front of the flames.

It continued to hiss and snarl, with Sirius watching, wondering whether the thing was really large or just had a large shadow. He soon found out.

It came out from around the stone. It was small, but had unnaturally long fingers with claws instead of fingernails at their ends. It was very bony, and pure white. Sirius had never seen anything like it, and he was afraid, until he felt the reassuring sword placed conveniently in his hands.

The creature, who was holding a candle, looked as though it was about to turn toward him. Sirius quickly put himself in the position that he had been in before. But the creature either ignored him or simply glanced quickly at him, because it stalked past him in the direction of the body on the other stone that finally revealed itself in the little light shining on it. It was Lupin.

Lupin had a sword as well, and Sirius realized that the position he and Lupin had been put in was an ancient one used for corpses of knights, kings, or other warriors. Then he saw how pale Lupin looked. _If he isn't already dead, he will be, unless I do something…_

The creature stopped in front of Lupin. Sirius was about to jump up when he saw a claw stretch for Lupin's body, but stopped himself just in time. The creature simply made motions over the body with the claw and shuffled into a doorway Sirius hadn't seen before.

It came back with a clay jar and a human skull. The skull looked very old. Strangely enough, this reassured Sirius. He was glad to know that there at least had to be humans in this world.

Sirius watched the movements of the creature and knew this was some sort of religious ceremony. He kept making signs over everything and hissing. Suddenly Sirius realized something. _Maybe when I thought it was hostile I was just jumping to conclusions. It may have long claws, but it hasn't made any move to hurt anyone…then again, he does carry around a skull…_

The creature sprinkled some powder from the jar on Lupin. It didn't look harmful, but Sirius watched intently. Then the thing started to turn around.

Sirius closed his eyes and went back into position. This time the creature was approaching him. He could hear the shuffling of its feet, and when it got even closer, its ragged breath. He felt powder sprinkled on him. Then he felt something else. The creature was so close he could feel its breath on his face. _If it tries anything, I'll kick it, then slash it with the sword…_

But it turned, and started to shuffle back toward Lupin again.

_Maybe it thinks we're dead, and it's going to bury us,_ Sirius thought hopefully. He knew it wasn't very likely, but he feared that he would never be able to fight it. He had never even touched a sword before.

The creature shuffled into the other room. Sirius closed his eyes just to make sure that it wouldn't see him awake when it came out. He waited a little while before he heard the footsteps leave the room and then head for Lupin. Then he opened his eyes.

This was the final straw. Harmless or not, the thing had a knife in its hand, and it was holding it ready as it went toward Lupin.

Without really thinking, Sirius cried out, jumping up and lunging at the thing. Luckily, it was taken by surprise, and dropped its dagger. At close range Sirius could see that the creature had a limp because of a large gash that stretched from its lower stomach down its leg. Sirius thrust the sword downward, parallel to the scar the creature had. Sirius realized the creature had very tough skin, and was glad he had picked a place that might be a little softer. Still, he had no idea what an effect the slash would have.

The creature screamed. It jumped back, yellow ooze dripping from the gash that had just reopened. To Sirius's terror, it held out its fingers and, like a cat, elongated its claws until they were even longer than its fingers.

The cry of the creature, however, had awoken Lupin. He looked up and immediately heard Sirius shout as the creature's claws swung and missed. Lupin jumped off of the rectangular stone and swung at the thing's unprotected back with his sword.

It howled with pain, and more yellow ooze dripped from it. Lupin had either swung very, very hard, or the creature had very thin protection on its back, because the single thrust caused the thing to crumple to the ground. Sirius shoved his sword point-down into its head to make sure it wouldn't get back up.

Lupin dropped the sword and slumped onto the floor. Sirius ran over to him. "What happened? I mean, when we were walking, suddenly you were gone!"

"I don't know. I thought you and Tonks had run off."

"How did you come here? Did you fall down, too?"

"No, I…I was grabbed from behind, and dragged over."

"I didn't hear you…"

"I didn't scream."

"Why not?"

"I couldn't. The fingers covered my mouth, and then it…some strange gas, I guess…"

"What are you talking about?"

"It poured a liquid into something, and there was this red gas, and I became sick…I still am…"

Lupin rubbed his forehead.

"Don't worry," Sirius said quickly. He grinned. "You saved me, you know. That was amazing."

"I should have been there when you started fighting. Are you hurt?"

"No."

"Good…"

"Here, you sit down."

Lupin obliged. Sirius carefully put down his sword. "Those came in useful, huh? We should bring them with us."

Sirius walked over to the room the creature had so often retreated to for materials. All around were piles and piles of gold and armor. And in the far end of the room was a circular stairway.

Sirius ran back into the main chamber. "Remus, you won't believe what's in…"

There was a huge crash. The ceiling fell through, and something landed right on top of Sirius, knocking him flat.

"Ow!"

Sirius coughed, dust swirling all around him. He knew it was a person who had landed on him. Rubbing his eyes free of dirt that had fallen along with the ceiling, he blinked. A woman was lying flat on top of him. She smiled.

For a moment Sirius was dumbfounded, trying to register that some strange woman had just fallen through the ceiling and landed on him. Then he suddenly realized who she was.

"Get off of me!"

He pushed the woman away. She stood up slowly, brushing herself off and looking very angry. "Well, you sure are a gentleman," she snapped, putting her hands on her hips.

"Only to you," Sirius said sarcastically, smiling.

"Lovely," Tonks replied, looking around. "Ugh…what's that?" she asked when she saw the dead creature.

"A friend," Sirius said.

"I see," Tonks said, raising an eyebrow. She turned to Lupin. "Hey, Lupin! How are you?"

"I'm feeling a little better than I did when that thing attacked," Lupin said.

"What did he do to you?"

"Tried to poison me, I suspect."

"It was doing this ritual," Sirius said. "It kept hissing and making little motions over your body. It sprinkled stuff on us."

"Those swords look pretty nice," Tonks said.

"Wait until you see everything else."

Tonks helped up Lupin and with Sirius they walked into the room.

"Wow," Tonks said with a low whistle.

"We should get going," Sirius said. "But first…"

An hour later, Sirius, Lupin, and Tonks, all covered in glistening armor and carrying as many weapons as they could, headed up the stone steps. They quickened their pace, not knowing that Dumbledore, Harry, and his friends were now a ways behind them.


	7. Chapter 7: Guides

Chapter 7

Guides

"Hey! You won't believe this! I swear, there are _human beings_ out there!"

Lupin looked up. Tonks was shocked. "Seriously, Sirius?"

"Yes!" Sirius cried, waving his arms wildly, and, for the first time since the barrow downs, looking excited. "There's a little town and everything! I went inside…actually, it's not just humans. There's these weird midgets…Anyway, you have got to come on! You should have seen the looks on their faces when I walked in wearing all this armor, too. They thought I was some sort of knight…But a few of them didn't really care, so I guess there really are people who look like this somewhere in this world…and from what I saw of the town, I'd say they're medieval Muggles."

"Medieval," Lupin repeated. "And you're sure they're Muggles?"

"I didn't see any wands or magic."

"All right," Lupin said. "We should go and at least spend the night there…I'm sure we can find some sort of inn for travelers. But first things first. Tonks?"

"Yes?"

"Your hair."

"Oh!" Tonks cried. If these people were medieval, they wouldn't know what to think about Tonks's spiked purple hair. To both Sirius's and Lupin's surprise, however, Tonks didn't screw her face up in concentration to get her hair to change. In a flash she was different.

But her hair wasn't the only thing that changed. Her eyes, which had been bright blue, turned brown like her new brown hair. The shape of her body changed as well.

"Well?" Tonks said, sounding a little embarrassed.

"Well, what?" Sirius asked.

"Well, haven't you ever wondered how I _really_ look?" Tonks asked.

"This is how you really look?" Lupin said, surprised.

"Yes," Tonks mumbled. She blushed.

Sirius raised his eyebrows.

"Strange," Lupin said, shaking his head.

"What?" Tonks asked nervously. She had thought Sirius would be the one making unnecessary comments on her appearance, not Lupin.

"One wonders why the gift of changing appearance was given to someone already so beautiful," he replied, smiling.

For a moment nobody spoke. Tonks broke the silence. "Thanks," she said quietly.

"Can we go now?" Sirius asked.

"Certainly," Lupin said.

"One moment," Tonks said. "How are we going to pay for three rooms to spend the night?"

"We only need two rooms," Sirius said. "I wouldn't mind sleeping on the floor in Moony's room."

"Never mind that, how are we going to pay for even one room?" Tonks asked.

"We will have to figure that out when we get there," Lupin said with a shrug.

The three friends proceeded to a large blocking the town. Sirius went to the gate-window.

"Hello?"

The window slid open. "You wish to enter?"

"Yes," Sirius said. "Remember me? I was in here, what…five minutes ago?"

The gatekeeper's eye squinted at him. "Oh yes…" it surveyed the others. "Brought friends, I see."

"Yes. Let us in."

The gate creaked open. Sirius, Tonks, and Lupin stepped inside.

"I'm surprised he speaks English, Moony," Tonks whispered to Lupin. "I was afraid for a second there that we would have to learn some strange new language."

"Yes, it is quite fascinating," Lupin said, staring at the buildings. "As are many things in this town…"

"It's strange…they speak English, but the writing is in these strange runes…" Sirius said, looking around at all of the buildings. "We have to find a place to stay, but I don't know where to go."

"There are a lot of people going into that large building over there," Lupin said, pointing.

The three walked inside. There was a fat man at the front desk who smiled at them. "Welcome to the Prancing Pony Inn!" he said cheerfully. "My name is Barliman Butterbur. Would you like to rent out a room for the night, or do you just want to go into the pub?"

"We don't have any money," Tonks reminded Sirius with a whisper.

"We'll just…er…walk around," Sirius said. They stepped into the "pub."

For about ten seconds, Sirius, Tonks, and Lupin were the center of attention.

With ancient swords at their belts and daggers glistening in the candlelight, they sharply contrasted the drunk, ragged men of the pub at the Prancing Pony. But, being drunk, the men took little interest in them. All but three.

Two men, sitting at a table, were conversing about business they had been doing. When they saw the three, they were quite interested. Anything that looked profitable caught their eye, and these three people were, judging by their weaponry, most definitely rich.

The other man who saw them sat in a dark corner. He had rushed to Bree as fast as he could when he had been told to, and now he sat and waited for someone he didn't know would even show up. But anything out of the ordinary was welcome, and these people certainly weren't ordinary.

The other two men quickly began talking again. Sirius had noticed their interest in him and his friends and slowly edged forward in their direction, listening in on their conversation while he made sure to look around in other places. He couldn't pick up much, but what he did hear was enough to give him cause to approach them.

"Do you think Saruman might have sent them over here to…"

"…you know how wizards are…"

The word "wizard" was just what Sirius had been hoping to hear. He ran over to their table and faced the two men. "You know a wizard?"

"Yes," one of the men said slowly.

"Do you know where he is? Is he here?"

"No," the other man replied.

"And why do you care?" the first man asked.

"I…I need to speak with a wizard," Sirius said quickly.

"Come with us," the second man said. The two stood up from their table and started to walk away. Sirius began to follow.

"What are you doing?" Tonks asked angrily, walking over to him.

"Stay behind," Sirius whispered back. "I'll deal with them. They might help us."

"Just don't do anything stupid," Tonks said. She and Lupin stayed back in the pub, while Sirius and the two men went to the other side of the inn, where the rooms were.

The two waited a few minutes, but nothing happened. "He'd better come back soon," Tonks said. "Otherwise I'll go and get him myself."

"He'll be back, Tonks," Lupin said, "but I don't know how long it will take." He glanced around nervously at the disgusting men drinking all around them.

The man in the corner stood up. _Now is my chance, while they are alone…_

But, before he could reach them, Sirius and the two men returned. Tonks was not happy to see that all three were staring at her. The look in the strangers' eyes as they continued to approach her was more than a bit frightening, and her own eyes kept darting back to Sirius, who was trying to signal something to her but sighed hopelessly and stopped.

One of the men reached out a hand as if to grab her, but Sirius stayed his hand and gently pushed it back. Tonks was outraged, but before she could yell her opinion Lupin shot her a warning glance. Tonks closed her mouth.

One of the men said, "All right. We'll do it."

"Great!" Sirius said. "Now, Lupin, Tonks, I would like you to meet Bill Ferny. He and his friend Deadeyes are going to show us the way to Isengard. There's a wizard named Saruman who lives there."

Bill Ferny told them that they would set off early the next morning. Surprisingly, he even paid for a room for the three to stay in. It wasn't until nightfall that the three finally got some privacy in their small room.

"What is going on here?" Lupin asked Sirius, before Tonks could.

"I already told you, we're going to visit a wizard," Sirius said. "I picked up a few things from our conversation. Apparently wizards aren't common at all. There's only a few of them in this whole country called Middle-earth, and Bill Ferny made it sound like they're all old men. And everyone has heard of them, but because there are so few, not everyone believes in them. Still, there isn't any secrecy like in our world."

"Sirius," Lupin said, "am I to believe that these two generous men paid for a room and offered to take us to this wizard free of charge?"

"I have everything taken care of," Sirius said. "We don't have to pay them anything."

"Oh really?" Tonks said, putting her hands on her hips. "So you didn't offer them _anything_?"

"Well…I…er…_offered_ them something, yes, but they're not going to get anything. You know, it's one of those deals where they don't get anything until they take us to Isengard…after we get to Isengard, we can ditch them, and we won't have to worry about it anymore."

"What exactly did you offer them?" Lupin asked.

"Er…well, it was difficult!" Sirius said. "They said that they do services for Saruman and he pays them, so they wanted something really…really expensive…"

"We don't have anything expensive," Tonks said. "What if they find out we don't have what it is you offered them and they try to kill us!"

"Well…you're missing the point," Sirius said. "I…well, I…er…I had to show them something or they wouldn't do anything for us, and they wanted proof, and my weapon wasn't good enough, even though Bill Ferny liked it a lot and offered to buy it off of me. So…so I had to…think of something we had that might…you, know, that…er…that they would like…"

"Sirius, you didn't," Lupin said sternly.

"Didn't what?" Tonks asked, looking from one man to the other.

"I told you, we don't have to worry about it!" Sirius said nervously. "I'll kill them when we get to Isengard if I have to! And, I'm telling you, this place isn't close, and there aren't any other wizards around! We would never have found it ourselves, and I had to offer something good or they would have just ignored me…"

"What did you offer!" Tonks asked wildly.

"Well," Sirius said, trying to think of some way to stall, "er…you haven't figured it out already?"

Both Lupin and Sirius were staring at her. Tonks was about to say she hadn't when it hit her. "Wait a second," she said, looking hard at Sirius. "You didn't…"

"Sorry," Sirius said. "It…well, it was the only way…"

Tonks didn't take it as well as Sirius might have hoped. She punched him hard in the face.

Sirius could be very violent when he was angry and Tonks's punch had certainly hurt. He was about to hit her back when Lupin grabbed him. "Sirius, _no_!" Lupin said. "Don't hit her! You deserved that."

Sirius sighed. "Yeah, okay, fine," he said, rubbing his jaw. "Sorry," he added truthfully. "But I swear, if they try to do _anything_, I won't hesitate to kill them, okay?"

"All right," Tonks said, rubbing her hand. She didn't want to admit it, but she figured her hand hurt just as much as Sirius's face after that punch.

"Even though I don't approve of this," Lupin said, "I am glad we are actually going somewhere now rather than blindly setting off again. Maybe it is better this way…"

The man who had sat in the corner the night before was in the pub again the morning after, and he watched as Bill Ferny and his companion led the three strangers off. But, once again, he wasn't the only one watching. As the five walked down the road in Bree, two others were looking out of a window.

"Father! Look!"

"What is it?"

"That's…I don't believe this! That's Professor Lupin…and…no, it can't be…"

Lucius Malfoy hurried over to the window and barely saw the three being led around a corner by Ferny and Deadeyes. "Dumbledore and Potter are not with them."

"What could that mean?" Draco asked nervously.

"Dumbledore could not have been ahead of us," Lucius said, shaking his head. "And I know we did not miss him…these three must have been sent out ahead. Dumbledore and Potter should follow."

"But what if they don't? What if Dumbledore sent them out here while he went a different way?"

"The Dark Lord seemed very confident that Dumbledore and Potter would stop here. Besides, in his message he clearly informed us that if they had not arrived in another week, we could leave."

"Well, I hope they come soon," Draco said, folding his arms. "This is so boring."

"They will come," Lucius assured him. "And when they do, we will carry out the Dark Lord's wishes."


	8. Chapter 8: Surprise in Bree

Chapter 8

Surprise at Bree

For days Voldemort had been driven by some unknown force to the southeast. Whenever Wormtail asked him questions, all he would say was that they had to reach "the destination." At times, Wormtail was almost certain his master was being possessed. He had been moving faster and faster ever since they had left the Malfoys. Wormtail's fear of being stranded in a place where he had yet seen no sign of other life kept him from leaving Voldemort, but it did not take long for him to realize that whatever unearthly strength allowed him to keep up with Voldemort was beginning to fade.

Wormtail was almost relieved when he woke up one morning to find that Voldemort had left him. Unfortunately, Voldemort had not cared to give him any message.

Hopelessly lost, Wormtail continued moving to the southeast, and to the mountains which had been slowly growing in each day of his journey.

-----------------------------------------

"You sure my mum knows we were going to be gone this long?" Ron asked Dumbledore.

"Knowing your mother, she would be concerned whether I told her or not…as it is, I am certain Professor McGonagall informed her that we will be gone as long as we need to, and return only when our quest is complete. We have already been here longer than I had hoped, but if our traveling companions are correct, we will find our wizard very soon, and your part of the journey will come to an end."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked. "We aren't going to help you find You-Know-Who?"

"Alas, no," Dumbledore said. "I cannot dismiss the feeling that Harry's vision may have held lies…and that Lord Voldemort wished for you to come for some unknown reason in accordance with his plans…"

"It wasn't Voldemort who said they should come," Harry said. "It was Wormtail. Voldemort said he was being an idiot…"

"Then perhaps it is a scheme of Wormtail's," Dumbledore said. "Either way, I cannot risk keeping you here. If you do not begin the journey back soon, you will not return home in time for term."

"But you're going to stay?" Neville asked.

"Of course," Dumbledore said. "I must keep Voldemort from harming these good people. They have no idea what he is…and I must find our other friends, who, I trust, are at this very moment discussing where their wizard will be found, if they have not already found him."

"Is it possible that Sirius and the others could've passed us and already found Gandalf in Bree?" Hermione asked, with a hint of annoyance. She was constantly vocally disapproving the hobbits' frequent stops to eat, although she did become tired often and probably needed the breaks.

"That would be quite a coincidence," Dumbledore said. "There are many paths that branch from this one, although we have been assured by the hobbits that this road is the most direct to Bree. We set out before them…"

"But they may have gone through the barrow-downs, instead of around them," Ginny said. "That would have put them ahead of us, right?"

"That would've put them in danger, though, too," Neville said, his eyes widening.

Dumbledore smiled, and he did not appear at all concerned. "No mythical creatures could have been any match for Harry's godfather, no matter how fierce the hobbits' centuries-old fables made them sound. Although Ginny does prove a point—if they crossed the downs then they may indeed be ahead of us. But that still does not mean they have gone to Bree. More likely they have already encountered some other settlement or town…or perhaps they, like us, have met with travelers who are helping to guide them…"

While they talked about these matters, the hobbits, a little ways in front of them, had their own conversations. Dumbledore was speaking to his group in hushed tones; apparently, he didn't want any of them to listen, and they respected his wishes. Sam, however, was suspicious. "Mr. Frodo, I don't like it when they talk like that…"

"We all have our secrets, Sam," Frodo said, touching the pocket where the ring was kept.

"I know, but these strangers…I've got a feeling they have some sort of trouble following them. They're good people, I know that, but there's something they're not telling us…and we've got enough trouble without them."

"They wanted to find Gandalf," Frodo said. "They will find him once we reach Bree. After that, we will have to continue without them, trouble or not…and I believe Merry and Pippin will not be pleased with the news. They have become quite friendly with Ginny and Neville."

"Well, I think it'll be for the better when they leave us. I'd rather stick with us hobbits, myself."

Their conversation was cut short when, after reaching the top of a steep hill, Merry and Pippin spotted lights shining out of the darkness ahead of them. "It's Bree!" Merry said. "We've made it!"

They walked down the road and stopped in front of the main gates. The gatekeeper let them in, muttering to himself about more suspicious-looking folk. Unbeknownst to the company of ten, Sirius, Lupin, and Tonks had passed through that gate almost exactly twenty-four hours previously.

The group now headed for the Inn of the Prancing Pony, where Gandalf had said he would be waiting for Frodo. Everyone was excited; the hobbits wanted to see the old wizard again, and the others wanted to see what he was like.

They entered the Inn and saw various strange men and hobbits drinking and laughing. Frodo did not like the looks of them, and Gandalf was nowhere to be seen.

"Excuse me," he said to the Innkeeper.

"Yes?" Butterbur replied.

"Have you seen a wizard recently? By the name Gandalf the Grey?"

"Hmm…Gandalf the Grey…oh! Tall fellow, gray beard, pointy hat, big staff, all wood with a big pipe stuck in it, and…"

"Yes, that's him!" Frodo interrupted happily.

"Haven't seen him for six months," the innkeeper said with a shrug.

Everyone exchanged dark looks.

"If I do see him again, I can tell him you were looking for him," the Innkeeper offered. "What is your name?"

"Frodo…Underhill."

"Underhill! Why, some Underhills stopped here this very morning! If I'm not mistaken, they should be in the pub right now…"

"I'll go to meet them," Frodo said, and the others followed. They found the largest table, and, after dragging over a few chairs, sat down to discuss what to do next.

"Gandalf said he would come," Frodo said. "I…something must have happened to him. It isn't like him, to be late."

"What are we to do, Mr. Frodo?" Sam asked worriedly. "Without Gandalf…"

"I don't know, Sam," Frodo said, shaking his head. "And Dumbledore and his companions…" he turned to the old man. "What are you to do now that Gandalf is not here?"

Dumbledore realized his plans had been faulty from the beginning. He had based everything on the hopes of meeting the wizard here. It hadn't even occurred to him that the wizard might not show up. _I cannot send Harry and the others back with the feeling that they have accomplished nothing…Harry, at least, would refuse to leave…_

"Well, I'm getting something to drink," Pippin said.

"Me, too," Merry said.

"I'll go with you," Ginny said, standing up. "For water," she added, glaring at Ron, who gave her a strange look.

"Yeah, me too!" Neville said. "And for water," he added hastily.

They all went up to ask the bartender for drinks.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione immediately began arguing with one another about what they should do next. Dumbledore sat back, lost in his own thoughts. And Frodo tried his best not to look suspicious; he realized that a man at the back of the inn was staring at him. After inquiring about him to the innkeeper, who basically told him "Strider—Ranger—trouble," Frodo sat back in his chair, hoping the strange Ranger would leave, or at least turn his gaze to something else. But then something caught his ear. It was Pippin.

"Of course I know a Baggins! Frodo Baggins! He's right over there, sitting at that table!"

"Pippin, no!" Merry said.

Frodo saw Strider suddenly stand up from his table. Frodo got up and hurried over to where Pippin was. "Pippin, please," he said, reaching inside his pocket and clutching the ring protectively. "Please, don't…"

A drunk had spilled his drink all over the floor. Frodo stepped right on it.

Frodo's arms flew into the air as he tried to balance himself. And, as though it was acting of its own accord, the ring slipped right out of his hand.

Frodo lay flat on his back, his hand outstretched, trying to catch the ring. It slipped right onto his index finger.

Most people gasped. A few others just shrugged and decided they were imagining things, as they often did when drunk. But everyone who was watching had seen Frodo disappear.

Frodo scrambled away. It didn't feel right. Bilbo had often spoken of putting on the ring and disappearing, and he said at first he didn't even know he was invisible and wondered why he couldn't see himself. But Frodo suddenly felt as though he had passed into another world by putting on the ring. The people around him were hardly identifiable, and they looked like shadows flitting about as he slipped passed them and out of sight. He remembered Gandalf's warning and, as soon as he was sure nobody was watching, took off the ring and returned it to his pocket.

But somebody had been watching.

"You draw far too much attention to yourself, Master Baggins," said a low voice to his left.

"I saw him!" Ginny cried. "A man, wearing all black, with a hood over his face…he took him…"

"Was he armed?" Dumbledore asked.

"I…I think he had a sword, yes," Ginny said.

"Then we must also arm ourselves," Dumbledore said.

Few drunks noticed as the party equipped themselves with barstools, sticks, torches, and any manner of appliances they could find in the pub, all of which they promised to return.

"Which room do you think they are in?" Pippin asked nervously.

"We'll have to try them all," Ron said. Holding his stick threateningly, he slammed open the door of one room. It was empty. He went to another; it was also empty. Then another; this time there was someone in the room, but it was an old woman. She looked terrified when Ron slammed open the door and appeared to nearly have a heart-attack. Dumbledore formally apologized to her while the others went to the next room over. When Dumbledore returned to the main group, wondering how they could possibly repay the innkeeper and his patrons for all the disturbance, they opened the correct door.

"Get away from Frodo!" Ron cried, seeing the hooded figure standing with the hobbit.

The man had drawn his sword when the door had opened, but he now chuckled and put it away. "Come on in. Join the party."

Ron lowered his stick. "What's going on here?"

"Don't worry, I'm a friend of Gandalf's, name of Strider. Now come in."

Strider was expecting a couple more to enter, but the boy, another boy, two girls, an old man, and three hobbits all filed into the room.

"Now it really is a party," Strider said. "Well, Gandalf told me you would have a companion, Frodo, but I didn't expect nine of them."

"Three set off from the Shire with me," Frodo explained. "The other five are friends we met on the road."

Strider's eyes narrowed. "Frodo, you really shouldn't be trusting people you meet on the road. They might be spies for the Enemy."

"We have come from a land far away to find a wizard," Dumbledore explained. "When we heard these hobbits were meeting Gandalf the Grey here we joined parties and headed for Bree with the same purpose. But Gandalf is not here. You claim to be a friend of his. Tell me: where is he?"

Strider shrugged. "He said he should be here in time to meet Frodo, but he sent me out just in case he was delayed. He told me he was going to visit his old friend Saruman. Saruman is another wizard, and he's supposed to be the head of their order. I think Gandalf went to ask him for advice about…" his eyes flashed toward Frodo. "…Something."

"And who are you, exactly?" Ron asked. "You aren't a wizard, are you?"

"Of course not!" Strider said, looking offended. "I am Strider, as I said. I'm a Ranger from the North."

"And why did you bring Frodo here? Is there something important you have to say?" Hermione asked.

Strider stared at her as though he had just realized she was there. "What?"

"What is it you want with Mr. Frodo?" Sam said angrily.

"Oh! Well…I was just warning him about the Black Riders. You don't seem to know what they are, and I imagine you didn't know they're heading for Bree right now."

"Well, what are they?" Merry asked.

"They were Men once," Strider explained. "Great kings of men who were corrupted by rings given to them by Sauron."

"I don't get it," Neville said, looking around. "What Black Riders?"

Nobody spoke.

"I think it is time…" Frodo began.

Suddenly Frodo heard screaming coming from somewhere far away. Strider flinched. "They're here," he said. "Wait in this room, and don't make a sound, while I attend to some business…"

Strider was out of the door in a flash.

The company heard hooves outside, and the hobbits knew that the Black Riders were coming. They did not, however, know what Strider was planning to do. Dumbledore glanced questioningly at Frodo. He knew Frodo wouldn't be able to say anything, seeing as Strider said to keep absolutely silent, but he wanted Frodo to know he was interested in these Black Riders.

Strider came back looking absolutely breathless. He blew out all the candles in the room, making it pitch-dark except for the faint light outside the window.

Everyone held their breaths. Strider looked exceedingly nervous. He didn't know what he was going to do if his plan didn't work.

Ron, who was closest to the window, saw dark shapes entering the Prancing Pony. Everyone heard the chilling, screaming sound they made.

Frodo knew they were coming. His hand clutched his pocket. He was scared to death. He was already convinced that whatever Strider had done had already failed. He was wrong.

They heard strange noises from another room. Harry got the sick feeling that the things in that room were stabbing something repeatedly.

Strider surprised everyone by smiling when he heard the noises. His smile widened when he heard the loudest screaming the things had made so far.

A chilling six minutes passed before Strider lighted the candles and said they could speak again.

"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed, looking very pale. "What just happened?"

"The Nazgul came in search of a ring. That's what they're called—the Nazgul. But I took some pillows and set up a trap in a room that I told the innkeeper was the room of Frodo Baggins. They obviously fell for it. I put the pillows under some covers and they thought they were the four hobbits. But they realized they were just pillows and apparently believed us to be long gone. So they left. It's safe to go out now."

"Then that's where I'm going," Merry said. He was looking even paler than Ron. "I need some fresh air."

"I'm going with you," Ginny said quickly. "It's too cramped in here." The two left.

"I don't understand any of this," Ron muttered to Hermione. "Strider said they wanted a ring. But what does that have to do with us?"

"I think I know what Frodo has been hiding from us all this time," Hermione whispered slowly.

"But what's so special about a ring? Even if it was pure gold, it can't be _that_ great, can it? And Strider talked about some other weird rings that turned men into those screaming things!"

"I don't know all the answers, Ron!" Hermione snapped. "Frodo will explain if we give him time."

Strider had turned to Frodo while the two were talking. "I need you to listen up," he said. "Gandalf is not here to be your guide, so that will be _me_. I'm going to take you to Rivendell. You will be safe when you get there. And the ring will be safe…for a time. I will leave a note for Gandalf with the innkeeper informing him to meet us there, so your friends can come with us, but they will have to be quick. Those Nazgul will come back eventually."

"I understand," Frodo said.

"Good. Now…"

From down on the road, they heard a scream. And it was not a Nazgul scream.

"That's Merry!" Pippin said.

Strider sprang up and ran out of the room. Harry followed just as fast. Everyone else hurried behind them.

----------------------------

Ginny and Merry strolled along the cobblestone street of Bree. "I'm glad that's over," Merry said.

"Me, too," Ginny agreed. "That was scary. What were those things? And what was Strider talking about?"

"Frodo didn't want to worry you," Merry said nervously. "They followed us out of the Shire. We went through the forest instead of the main road and lost them there. We were going to tell you eventually…I'm sorry, Ginny."

"But why were they following you?" Ginny asked worriedly. She, unlike the others, had no suspicions regarding Frodo.

"We're on a sort of…mission," Merry said. "Frodo will explain it all, I know he will. He…"

Ginny heard hoof beats coming from down a dark alley to their left.

"What was that?" she asked.

"Just somebody on a horse, probably," Merry said. "I wouldn't…"

Lucius Malfoy, on horseback, suddenly came out of the shadows.

Merry saw the fear in Ginny's eyes and realized she knew something he didn't. Ginny did not have long to think. Malfoy, reaching out an arm, grabbed her, and (with great difficulty) pulled her onto the horse.

Merry screamed. Malfoy rode off. And then Strider came with the others.

"What happened? Where's the girl who went with you?"

"Pippin," Merry said, trembling with rage, "Pippin…he took her…"

"Who did, Merry?" Pippin asked.

"She knew…she knew him, I didn't…oh, Pippin, there was nothing I could do…I didn't have a weapon…she looked so afraid…we have to save her…"

"Don't worry!" Ron said stepping forward. "We'll rescue her! They can't have gone far!"

"Horse," Merry said weakly.

"Oh…"

"It wasn't Voldemort!" Harry suddenly cried.

"What?" Dumbledore said.

"It wasn't Voldemort," Harry repeated. "Voldemort isn't here. I would be able to tell. My scar isn't burning, and it always burns when he's near. It wasn't him."

"It must have been one of his Death Eaters," Dumbledore said. "Lucius Malfoy, or Wormtail. I do not know which."

"Where could he be taking her?" Hermione asked, horrified.

"To Voldemort," Harry said. "Wherever he is."

"By this time Voldemort will have probably allied himself with whatever dark powers control this land," Dumbledore said, turning to Strider.

Strider blinked. "What? Dark powers? You mean Mordor…"

"What's that?" Ron asked.

"It's a place," Strider said. "Nearly all the dark power of Middle-earth dwells in Mordor, now that the Dark Lord has moved from Mirkwood…"

"We will most likely find Ginny in Mordor, then," Dumbledore said.

"Let us not jump to conclusions here," Strider said quickly. "Mordor is impossible to get to unless you have an invitation…even if your friend was being taken to Mordor, there is no way any of you are going to find her there."

"What do you mean?" Ron asked.

"I mean that no one who enters Mordor ever comes out unless they are an orc or some other creature of darkness…and those who dwell in Mordor are vile things, and will stand in our path. There is no crossing that place…none would ever venture there with you."

"That isn't true," Frodo said quietly. He turned to Dumbledore. "There is something I need to tell you. Something I should have told you a long time ago." Frodo reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, plain gold ring.

Strider's breath caught in his throat, and he felt dizzy and had a strong urge to take the ring. And he wasn't the only one.

Ron, who was standing not far away, had no idea what the ring was, but he could feel its power. _Take it. Take it…_

Frodo put the ring back in his pocket and it all stopped.

"That was the One Ring," Frodo said.

The others stared at him blankly.

"The One Ring that belonged to Sauron," Frodo clarified.

"I have never heard of it," Dumbledore said.

Strider laughed uneasily. "Never heard of it? Where are you from?"

"I will explain in a moment, but first I want to hear Frodo's story," Dumbledore said.

"The Dark Lord Sauron created it so that he could rule over all the Free Peoples of Middle-earth," Frodo said quickly. "But it was cut from his finger by Isildur, a man, in a great battle. Rather than destroy it, Isildur kept the ring, but he, too, was killed. The ring was taken by a creature called Gollum, and then my cousin Bilbo found it. He gave it to me.

"I am on a quest to bring the ring to Rivendell. There its fate will be decided. But Gandalf told me that the only true way to be rid of it is to bring it to Mordor and destroy it. I carry the ring now, but whoever takes it in Rivendell will likely go to Mordor, and if you must go there, then that is who you can travel with. If Ginny is not being taken to Mordor, however…then you may be able to learn more of her whereabouts in Rivendell, where a wise elf knows much of the affairs of Middle-earth."

A silence followed these words.

"We, too, are on a quest," Dumbledore said, breaking the silence. "We are not from Middle-earth, nor are we from any other lands here. We are from another world. We passed into this one following an evil wizard who has come for dark purposes. Middle-earth is in danger as long as he remains here. There are millions of wizards in our world, and I am one of them. Harry, Ron, and Neville are wizards, and Ginny and Hermione are witches. We do not have our powers because our wands would not pass through the portal into this world, but I believe the dark wizard Voldemort was somehow able to bring his wand with him, and his servants, called Death Eaters, may also be armed. We have come here to find wizards to warn about the coming of this Dark Wizard. I am sorry we did not tell you before, but we did not think you would believe us."

"Nor did I think you would believe I had the ring," Frodo admitted. "But now we know the true purposes of each other's journeys…"

"Wait," Strider said. "I just remembered something."

"What?" Dumbledore asked.

"Do you think these…er…Death Eaters, were looking for wizards here as well?"

"Why?" Harry asked.

"I saw three people arrive in Bree just last night who were looking for a wizard. They left with two villainous scoundrels for Isengard, the realm of Saruman."

"Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Nymphadora Tonks," Dumbledore said instantly. "Hermione, you were correct…"

"Where did you say they were going?" Harry asked.

"To Isengard, to see Saruman," Strider replied. "But…they were going with Bill Ferny and Deadeyes. Those two are not kind folk…but I suppose that if they have been paid they will assist your friends…"

"But Sirius and the others can't have any money," Hermione said slowly.

"Why are we all standing here!" Ron asked wildly. "Have you forgotten that my sister has just been kidnapped by some Death Eater? Don't you have any idea what they're going to do to her? We have to keep moving!"

"Wait," Dumbledore said. "I…I have to say something, and I will try to say it quickly. I was expecting to meet Gandalf here and then take you all home. We don't belong here. If all of you continue along on this journey, you will miss the beginning of term, and it is very likely that at that point we will be suspected dead by all our families and friends."

Hermione shuddered. Ron looked at the ground.

"Now," Dumbledore said, "I will not rest until Ginny is back and safe, but I will risk taking you back to the tree if it means getting you home safely. Then I shall proceed all the way to Mordor alone if I have to. You will not have to worry about Ginny; I will return with her. I understand if Ron would want to stay and help his sister, but I strongly suggest that all of you, including Ron, should go home."

"But…but it's not just Ginny," Neville said. "Look at Frodo. He's on a quest, and he needs all the help he can get. If we want to find out where Ginny is, and Frodo's going somewhere where we might be able to, then we should help him, too, right? I mean, they've helped us so much already…"

"Your company would be appreciated, but not necessary," Frodo said.

"I want all of you to make a decision," Dumbledore said. "And I want you to think about it. We have been gone a long time. If even one of you could go back, I would tell you what to say to the Order of the Phoenix, and what to do, and they would listen to you. Your families would not know exactly where you are, but they would know that you are alive. If none of you return, then all will assume the worst, and the Order may take drastic measures to find me."

Everyone was quiet. Then Ron spoke. "I'm not letting Ginny get taken to Voldemort while I sit around at home waiting for her to come back," he said with firm resolution. Harry suddenly realized it was the first time Ron had ever said the Dark Lord's name, and he hadn't even shown a hint of fear.

This enlightened Harry. "And I'm not leaving my best friend here," he said. "I'm staying."

"And I want to help the hobbits and Ginny," Neville said.

"And I would never leave you all here if there was something I could do to help," Hermione said briskly.

Dumbledore sighed. "I cannot make you go, if it is your wish to stay. Very well. We set off tomorrow. We will need rest if we want to go a long way."

"That we will," Strider said. "Rivendell is not far along the main road, but with the Black Riders being as close as they are, we may wish to seek alternatives…"


	9. Chapter 9: Allies

Chapter 9

Allies

Lucius Malfoy was still getting used to riding his horse. Glancing to his side, he saw that his son was not faring much better.

Lucius looked up at the sky. The sun would be rising soon, right in their faces. Then he looked down at the girl who, now tied up, was on the horse with him. Her eyes were closed, but he was reasonably sure she was awake. _She's trying to think about how she can escape,_ Lucius thought. _She knows she can do nothing now…she is waiting for an opportunity…_

Lucius's thoughts were interrupted by his son's whining. "Father, where are we going?"

"I told you, Draco, to the east."

"I still don't understand why the Dark Lord couldn't just stay with us. And what did he mean when the message said 'I'll find you?' Are you sure he was telling the truth? Maybe he just wanted to get rid of us."

"If he wanted to get rid of us he would have sent us back through the tree to make sure whatever idiot he left back in charge is doing his job. He wouldn't have asked us to kidnap one of Potter's friends."

"Maybe he thought Dumbledore would find us. Maybe he didn't think we could even make it this far."

"I am one of the Dark Lord's most faithful servants, and he would not have sent me on this mission if he did not intend for me to carry it out! He will find us…he has a wand, you know."

"Why should that help? What's he going to do, ask his wand where we are?"

"He will find a way!"

"Father, I'm tired of riding! Wouldn't it be easier for him to find us if we stop?"

"Stop? Stop where?! There's nowhere to stop! If I saw a decent place to stay, we could stay there and rest, but there is no way I am stopping the middle of a field like this! Dumbledore could be right behind us!"

Just as he said this, Lucius was sure he could hear hoofbeats behind him. He turned, and to his horror, confirmed shapes riding toward him out of the darkness.

"Draco," Lucius said, "ride faster…"

Draco turned and looked. Ginny opened her eyes.

The horses were gaining on them, and after a few seconds of panicking, Lucius realized that the riders were all dressed in black, and looked identical. There were nine of them.

"What?" Lucius whispered.

Lucius slowed down his horse, which was exhausted and couldn't outrun the black riders anyway. Draco also reluctantly did the same (which took effort from his part; he still had trouble controlling it). When they had slowed down to a stop, the riders became clearly visible. For a moment, Lucius thought they were dementors riding on horses, but as they neared, he did not feel the familiar cold sensation and drain of happiness; instead, he felt fear.

All nine riders lined up and faced Lucius Malfoy (and Draco, whose horse was having trouble turning to see them). Both of the Malfoys' horses were whimpering.

"You follow Him," one of the black riders said in a hissing voice.

"We aren't following anyone," Lucius said nervously.

"You do!" the rider insisted.

"I don't understand."

"_Him_. Your master…"

"What do you know of my master?" Lucius asked, some of his courage returning. _Perhaps this is what the Dark Lord meant when he said he would find us…_

"He is coming to the land of my master," the same black rider said. "He has not arrived yet, but he will soon…my master has Seen it."

"Could you guide us to this land?" Lucius asked hopefully. He was willing to stand the presence of these horrible riders if it meant he could get to Voldemort.

The black rider turned to his companions, speaking in the Black Speech, so that Lucius could not understand. "_Five shall remain, to search for the Halfling. Four shall go with this man to Mordor. All followers of Him must be punished_."

There was a loud screeching in reply.

The black rider turned back to Lucius. "I shall not go with you, but four of our number shall."

He turned away and rode back, with four other riders following.

Four black riders remained. Lucius stared at them. "So, are we…"

Lucius immediately covered his ears. A piercing, deafening scream emitted from all four of the black riders. Ginny writhed; her bound hands could not cover her ears, so she pressed her head against part of the horse, trying as best as she could to block the sound.

The screeching stopped. Lucius, blinking, stared at the four, who remained still.

"Are we going to the land of your master?" Lucius said.

"Wait," one of the riders said, in a low hiss.

For about a minute, they waited.

Then Lucius heard another sound; it was the flapping of wings, and a roar. He looked up at the sky and saw six winged creatures flying down toward them.

They all landed. They were horrifying, and Lucius realized, when he saw the riders dismount, that this would be how they were traveling to Voldemort.

"Come," a black rider said.

_Why couldn't he have kept me with him, and made Wormtail do this instead?_ Lucius wondered, staring fearfully at the creatures.

Draco, on the other hand, smiled as he stared at the hideous flying beasts. "Brilliant."

-------------------

Traveling on the road to Isengard was not easy. Sirius, Lupin, and Tonks were lucky to have guides and lucky to have been provided horses and food. Sirius knew they could not have found their way around by themselves.

They had been traveling for two days. Bill Ferny and his friend Deadeyes usually rode ahead, not speaking to anyone, while Sirius, Lupin, and Tonks rode in the back. At night, they would stop traveling to get a few hours of sleep. Tonks always went off by herself, and Sirius and Lupin exchanged guard duty, where they claimed they were watching out for enemies but really were watching to see if Ferny or Deadeyes would sneak away while they were asleep.

On this particular night, both Ferny and Deadeyes were snoring, and Tonks had already gone. Lupin and Sirius, neither being able to sleep, started talking about Harry, whom they both agreed would be fine as long as he remained with Dumbledore. "They're probably a lot better off than us," Sirius said.

"I'm still getting used to all this traveling," Lupin said. "It's strange, living like this… yet I can't help but enjoy it. I feel fairly useless in the Order…"

"_You_ feel useless?! Look at me! I was stuck back there in that house…all I could do was sit there, while all of you talked about your assignments…"

"I rarely had anything interesting to do anyway. Now, if I worked at the Ministry, like Tonks, I could offer a whole lot more, but as I am, with no decent job…" Lupin sighed. "It's nice to have a vacation. I don't think there's anyone else I'd rather be here with than you…and Tonks, too."

"Oh really?"

"Yes."

"Well, she certainly thinks the same way…"

"Hmm?"

"Tonks, I mean. She likes you."

"She likes you too."

"Are you joking? I'm the one who said I would sell her to those two lunatics over there…she hardly even speaks to me, and she's always glaring at me with that look of hers…"

Lupin chuckled. "Yes, well, I suppose you're right…"

"But she likes you. She always talks to you."

"That's just because she doesn't like you and she has nobody else to talk to."

"You know it's more than that."

"Sirius, I think I know where this is going, and I really don't think…"

"Why not?"

"Why not what?"

"Why wouldn't it work?"

"What?"

"You and Tonks! Why wouldn't it work?"

"Sirius, _honestly_…"

"I think you could…"

"Good night, Sirius."

Lupin rolled away from Sirius and fell asleep. Sirius sighed, realizing it was his turn for guard duty.

Lupin woke up suddenly in the middle of the night. He heard raised voices, and sat up.

"I SAID TO STAY AWAY!" Sirius was shouting.

"NO!" Bill Ferny said. "No more of this! I'm not taking you anywhere until I get some payment!"

"You get nothing until we get to Isengard!" Sirius snarled.

Bill Ferny pulled out a knife. "I get what I want _now_!"

Sirius blinked. Lupin stood up slowly. Ferny's back was facing him, so he didn't know he was awake. Lupin was ready to attack him if he had to.

But Lupin wasn't the only one who had awoken due to the arguing. Suddenly there was a cry from a little ways off.

"Get away, you freak!" Tonks screamed.

Lupin ran over. Deadeyes, who had a bloody nose, was hovering over Tonks, who had her fists raised. "Stay away from her," Lupin said, afraid to take out any weapons. He didn't want the guides to get seriously hurt; they weren't at Isengard yet.

"Ferny, this is stupid!" Deadeyes shouted at his friend. "Let's take the girl and leave!"

"My plan exactly!" Ferny said.

Deadeyes had a dagger out in a flash.

Lupin pulled out a dagger he had salvaged from the barrow-wight horde, and Sirius pulled out a short sword. Things had gone too far.

Tonks hurried over to her pack (a bag given to her by Ferny that had food and her store of barrow-wight weapons), dodging Deadeyes, who jumped at her. She grabbed a dagger herself but hesitated to use it. She didn't want to kill anyone.

Sirius was trying to hold off Ferny. Deadeyes surprised Tonks and Lupin by lunging at Tonks and then whirling around for Lupin instead. There was no doubt in any of their minds—Deadeyes was ready to kill Lupin. Sirius broke off from Ferny and stabbed him through the back.

Deadeyes staggered and fell…dead.

Ferny was furious. He ran over to his own supplies and brought out a huge club. Swinging it madly, he aimed for Sirius, who ducked and lunged at Ferny with his short sword. Ferny was about to swing again when Lupin lashed out at his arm. Ferny cried out and dropped the club. There was a terrified neighing and the horses bolted.

Lupin was prepared to leave Ferny there. He was lying defenseless on the ground with his club out of reach, cradling his arm, and probably would remain to do so hours after they left. But Sirius was angry. He stabbed him through the chest.

Tonks screamed, surprised. Ferny was dead instantly.

"Why did you do that?" Tonks asked Sirius.

"You wanted to let that bastard live?" he said angrily.

"I didn't want him to die!" she choked. "You didn't have to kill him like that!"

Sirius showed no signs of guilt. He kicked the dead body of Bill Ferny and mumbled something under his breath. Then he looked around. "No horses…we'll have to set off on foot."

"Set off where?" Lupin asked, scanning the area. The sun was beginning to rise. "We have no idea where to go."

"There's got to be civilization around here somewhere," Sirius said. "And we can't be that far from Isengard, we've been traveling forever…we have to find allies…"

"They said Isengard was near the mountains," Lupin remembered. "And I don't see any mountains."

"Well, maybe we'll see some tomorrow. Now let's go. I don't care if we only got an hour of sleep, I'm awake, and we're going to have to start traveling at night now that we don't have horses."

Sirius picked up his pack and frowned. "I'll take Ferny's, too," he said, taking the dead man's things. "Remus, you can take the other guy's stuff. Let's go."

And he started walking off.

--------------------------

The black tower loomed up in front of Voldemort. His destination had been reached; he couldn't remember how he got there, but it didn't matter. He had made it.

Slowly he slithered forward. Then something happened he did not expect. A huge, hideous eye at the top of the tower shone its light down upon him. The only light in the black land of Mordor was now shining on him.

Voldemort hissed. The eye recognized its foe, and it burned fiercer and brighter than before as Sauron became enraged. Voldemort slithered forward at breakneck speed, the eye following him all the way up to the very doors of the tower.

The orcs, for a reason unknown to Voldemort, feared him, and let him pass without hesitation, just as they had when he slithered up through their ranks and passed their gate. Voldemort passed more and more orcs, but none dared to defy him. He did not care. Even if they had, it wouldn't have stopped him.

Voldemort did not know how long it took him to reach the top of the mighty tower. He wasn't paying attention to time. But when he did reach the final floor, he felt tired—more tired than he had ever felt in his entire life. For the first time, Voldemort—no longer possessed—realized where he was.

Sauron, taking on a corporeal form, stood before the snake, with his devastating mace in one hand and a silvery orb in the other. "_So you have come_." His voice was nothing more than a hiss.

Voldemort transformed back into a human and drew his wand. He had no idea what he was doing at the top of the tower, but was pleased that he had made it. "You were expecting me?"

"_I knew you would return_."

"I have never been here before."

"_I know that. But I knew you would return to Mordor._"

"I had never been to Mordor before now."

"_You think I do not remember you? You are a fool. I knew you would return, and now you have. Do not play games with me._"

"I play no games," Voldemort snarled. It was obviously Sauron who was playing games with him. Voldemort knew something strange had happened to him on his way to Mordor. He also recalled that Wormtail had been with him before and obviously was nowhere in sight now. But Voldemort refused to believe that he had spontaneously turned into somebody else. He was quite sure he looked the same as before. Sauron, evidently, was mistaking his identity.

"You do not know who I am," Voldemort continued. "I have never seen you before, although I have been told about you. I am Lord Voldemort of the other world…"

"_I know you are of the other world, fool! Even when nobody else knew back then, I knew! You may have tricked your humans, but I, Sauron the Great, am not fooled by your pitiful magic!_"

"I do not know what you are talking about," Voldemort shouted, "and I will not ally myself with someone who is insane!"

"_Why do you pretend you do not remember me_?"

"I HAVE NEVER SEEN YOU BEFORE!"

Sauron hissed. "_You are different now, I can see. Hmm…maybe you do not remember. But you must remember something, or you would not have come here._"

"I remember what I was told by others! I have come because…"

Sauron set down the shining orb and held his mace I both hands. "_You desire to finish me off. I am ready._"

"I do not want to kill you!"

Sauron laughed. It was the most horrifying sound Voldemort had ever heard. It made him conscious of the fact that, as evil as he tried to make his own laugh sound, it was nothing compared to Sauron's.

"_You are afraid! Another difference from before._"

"You are mad!" Voldemort cried, feeling only a little brave standing next to this powerful being. "You do not know what you are talking about! I have never even been to this world before!"

Sauron took a step back. This time he set down his mace and picked up his orb in both hands. Power flowed into him, and his fearsome gauntlets glowed. After a few seconds, Sauron set the orb back down. "_There are others here…others from your world_."

"Yes!" Voldemort cried. "That's it! It's one of them you want, not me! I am not here to finish you off!"

"_I thought you were my enemy…_"

"I am here to reason with you! To make an alliance!"

"_You can have whatever you want from me, if you help me find my ring._"

"Your what?"

"_My ring_."

Something hit Voldemort suddenly. A strong desire held him, for a moment, in its grasp. He didn't know what the ring was, or why Sauron wanted him to find it. All Voldemort knew was that he had to have that ring. It was more important than anything else in the world. And, in the moment that the desire held him, he was ready to destroy Sauron for it, to fight the entire world if he had to. But only for a moment.

He quickly recovered and decided he had been going crazy. _Why would I want some ring, even if it does have powers? I have a wand_.

"I desire an army," Voldemort said. "An army of darkness that can pass into my world."

"_You care not about Middle-earth_?"

"That is the pact, you see. We help each other, and you can have Middle-earth, as long as I am provided with an army to take over my own world."

"_If I provide you with an army, what will you do in return_?"

Voldemort hesitated. Then he suddenly realized something. "The man you seek," he said. "Your mortal enemy. I believe I know who he is."

"_Who_?"

"There is a man in my world by the name of Albus Dumbledore. He is the most powerful wizard I have ever met…even my power does not equal his. I have always known there was something wrong about him…he must not be of my world. He must be like you…"

"_Then this is who I seek to destroy! But what does that have to do with you helping me, human? Or are you wasting my time?_"

"I know things about Dumbledore," Voldemort said quickly. "I know his…weaknesses. I can draw him over here, if you would like."

"_How_?"

"If my servants have succeeded, then all I must do is tell them where I am, and they shall bring someone here…a prisoner. Dumbledore will come for this prisoner."

"_You are certain of this?_"

"Absolutely certain. If my servants have failed, then I must do something on my own…it will not be difficult. I could make a plan to contact one of Dumbledore's companions…I will draw them all here, and then you can take your wrath out on your enemy…"


	10. Chapter 10: Towers

Chapter 10

Towers

Ginny had been knocked unconscious. When she awakened, she thought it was night. It was not.

She was lying on cold ground. Ginny realized this was not dirt; she was inside somewhere. When she tried to sit up, she found she was still tied up. She did, however, alert the attention of her guard.

"So, the blood traitor is awake. Ready for your execution?"

Ginny scowled. "Malfoy, if I had a wand…"

Draco laughed. "Well, you don't have a wand. And the Dark Lord does. He'll put it to good use, I'm sure…as you will see in a moment."

"He's here?"

"Yes. This is Barad-Dur…the dark tower of Mordor. The Dark Lord has a great and powerful ally here. We will get an army so huge we can take over our world…and all of the Muggles, with blood traitors like you, will be our slaves. Sauron is very generous…"

"Why would he be so generous, unless he was trying to trick you?"

"Because we're going to bring him his worst enemy, Dumbledore…thanks to you."

"Dumbledore isn't stupid enough to come all the way over here for me."

"Of course he is, and you know it. Even if he doesn't, Potter will…you know he'll want to be the hero and save you. Potter might even lead off Dumbledore so that he can do it himself. I told my father that, but he wouldn't listen to me. I guess eventually Dumbledore would find his little pet and come after him anyway…and bring some more friends along. That was one of the most ingenious parts of the Dark Lord's plan…that vision Potter was supposed to have…it was planned, you know."

"He wanted Harry to see it so he could lure him into this world?" Ginny asked.

"Of course…you know, Wormtail and my father actually memorized those lines? The whole part about 'the power of friendship'…that was so lame, I almost laughed when the Dark Lord said it was part of the plan, but your Dumbledore fell for it…he's really so predictable…"

"And yet your precious Dark Lord has never been able to catch him."

"He will now. And it will be because of you. _All because of you_. You don't know how happy my father and I were when we saw you wandering around the street with that midget. We knew you were the best person we could possibly pick to bring here…a person who Potter and Dumbledore cared about, but who was too weak to fight us. You have fulfilled all the Dark Lord's wishes…Potter could never resist coming here for you, especially after he hears your screams in another vision when the Dark Lord deals with you."

"You're going to die, Malfoy," Ginny spat. "You're going to die like all the others."

"Empty threats! You can do nothing, and your friends can't do anything to me, either!"

"I'm not talking about me or my friends. I'm talking about your Dark Lord. Some day he is going to ask you to do something you won't like, and when you don't do it, he'll kill you."

Ginny's voice trembled when she said this, and she wasn't certain why these words even came out of her mouth. Draco was no longer smirking.

"You'll get yours, blood traitor," he spat. "You'll get yours…"

The door opened. Lucius Malfoy stood in the doorway. "Untie her."

Draco hesitated.

"The Dark Lord wishes her to be brought to him _now_! Untie her!"

"But Father, what if she…"

"Just bring her, then!"

Draco hurried over to Ginny and grabbed her, pulling her up and dragging her out of the room.

Ginny tried to think of some way she could escape, but as long as her legs were tied together, she couldn't go far even if she did somehow manage to get away from the Malfoys.

They finally led her into a large hall, with a throne at the back. The throne was high and black, and there was a red eye crudely painted onto it. Someone was standing near it, his back facing them as they entered. Draco flung Ginny forward, and she struggled a bit, finally able to get up on her knees.

"Remain here, Malfoy," Voldemort said, somehow sensing that the two Malfoys were about to leave. Both stood still on the other side of the room.

Ginny scowled at Voldemort's back, not wanting to appear weak before the man she feared more than anyone. "Why won't you look at me? Or are you afraid I'll laugh at your ugly face?"

"Actually," Voldemort said, smiling (although she could not see it), "I was going to turn around suddenly for dramatic effect, but if you would prefer…"

Voldemort turned slowly, and Ginny saw his face. Her eyes widened as they looked at his, and suddenly all of her courage drained away.

"Now you look upon me," Voldemort said.

"You've changed so much," Ginny whispered.

Voldemort's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

Ginny didn't answer. Voldemort continued staring at her for a moment. Then he looked over at Lucius Malfoy, who winced and nodded.

"I am curious as to why you did not inform me of this, Malfoy," Voldemort said, his voice dangerously calm. "You said this girl was useless."

"My Lord, I…"

"Be quiet."

Lucius shut his mouth. Voldemort looked back at Ginny. "So, you are the little girl who wrote in my diary."

"Yes, Tom."

Voldemort's jaw twitched. "You think you are brave, to call me by that name?"

"That is your name."

Voldemort flicked his wand, and the ropes that bound Ginny disappeared. "I see you have spirit. That is good…it will make you harder to break. Those who break easily are less enjoyable."

"I don't understand what good all this talking is doing. If you're trying to build dramatic tension…"

"Actually, I wished to ask you a few questions…and whether or not you refuse to answer matters little, because I can see into your thoughts, and I will be able to determine the answer for myself if you do not say it…just as I can tell that, at this very moment, you are concentrating on thinking the wrong answer to whatever questions I ask you. I am afraid it does not work that way…now to the questions. Dumbledore brought you here, didn't he? With Potter?"

"Yes."

"Who else came with you?"

"There was my brother, Ron…Hermione Granger…Neville…and that was all."

"Did any of them bring wands with them?"

"No. The wands wouldn't go through the tree."

Voldemort smiled. "You are wise not to lie, little girl."

"I'm not stupid. You already told me you can read my mind anyway, and I know that if I lie you'll only make things worse for me."

"Not many would look at the situation as you do…certainly Potter, if he was here, would simply refuse to answer any questions, as would Dumbledore. Of course, this makes your torture less enjoyable, yet more…interesting."

"Do you have any more questions for me?"

"Just one…do you know anything about a ring?"

"Ring?"

"Yes…a magic ring. Do you know anything about one?"

"No."

"Are you absolutely certain?"

"Yes."

Voldemort sighed. "I see…well then, we must move on to the main event…"

"You aren't going to kill me, are you? You want to keep me alive."

"Yes, I will keep you alive…although not in any way you could possibly imagine."

Voldemort pulled out his wand. Draco looked at him in awe. "What's he going to do to her?"

"Shut up," Lucius said. He looked rather paler than usual.

For a moment, Voldemort closed his eyes, clearly concentrating on something. Then, suddenly, he said, "_Crucio_!"

Ginny fell to the ground screaming as the spell did its work. Draco Malfoy was no longer smiling.

After it was over, Ginny lay on the ground, silent tears pouring down her cheeks.

"Do you know what Dumbledore says my greatest weakness is?" Voldemort asked, smiling evilly.

"No," Ginny said hoarsely.

"He has said it of me countless times. He says my greatest weakness is that I fail to recognize that there are things worse than death. Many call Dumbledore a brilliant man, but I believe that is the only thing of true brilliance that I have ever heard him say. And so, little girl, I am following his advice…instead of killing you, as I am often prone to do to enemies, I will give you something worse than death. _You will live_."

Draco backed away. He was feeling something he had never felt before toward a person like Ginny—pity. He started heading back to his new room when he heard Voldemort cry out a strange, unfamiliar incantation. Ginny shrieked. Draco could tell there were lots of flashes of light coming from the hall by the reflections on the walls around him, but he dared not look back. After the lights disappeared, he could hear Ginny sobbing on the floor. Draco turned and looked back in spite of himself. His father was closing his eyes, looking horror-stricken. And Voldemort was laughing his cold-hearted, trademarked laugh.

"What have you done to me, Tom?" Ginny whispered through her sobs. "What have you done to me?"

----------------------------------------

Wormtail staggered, almost falling.

He was very sick; he had had nothing to eat except bugs, and had nothing to drink except stream water. He couldn't really figure out how he was still alive, and had been wandering toward the mountains ever since Voldemort had left him.

The day before, however, he had found something—a tower, sticking up out of a beautiful orchard-garden filled with various trees and flowers. Wormtail had headed toward that tower, and he was now nearing the edge of the garden. He went up to one tree, and moaned when he saw it had apples. He pulled one off, relishing it as he ate slowly. He grabbed a few more to carry with him.

Wormtail headed toward the tower, now within walking distance. In fifteen minutes, he had reached it.

Wormtail, still starving despite the apples and desperate to find somewhere safe to rest, knocked on the front door. He hoped he would be strong enough to turn into a rat and get away if there was any trouble.

When nothing happened, Wormtail knocked again, but louder this time, and with more courage. After a few seconds of waiting, the door opened.

Standing in the doorway was a man—or so Wormtail thought—with brilliantly shining white robes and matching long white hair with a long white beard. He carried a staff, but as Wormtail looked at it, he could tell it was no ordinary walking stick. Being a wizard, he could sense its power.

"Welcome," the man's booming voice said. "I have never seen you before. Who are you, and what brings you to Orthanc?"

"I'm Wormtail, and I'm…lost," Wormtail said, suddenly feeling very small.

"I am Saruman the White, leader of the Council of Wizards. Tell me where it is you wish to go and I shall help direct you."

"You…you are a wizard!" Wormtail cried, feeling his senses return to him. "I am a wizard too…"

"Oh?" Saruman said, looking surprised (and trying not to look amused). "Tell me, then, why I have never seen you before."

"I…I come from far away," Wormtail said lamely.

"If you are a wizard, you must have powers. Show me."

"Well, I don't have my wand, so…"

"Wand?"

"That's where my powers are."

"Can you bring your wand here?"

"Well…no. But there is one thing I can do without my wand!" Wormtail said, suddenly remembering.

"And?"

Wormtail transformed into a rat, slowly, so that Saruman would see the entire effect. Saruman was indeed impressed when Wormtail turned back into a human. "Interesting," he said. "I have seen Radagast turn into animals before, although…never a rat. Please, step inside."

Wormtail stared at Saruman as he spoke. Power came out with every word, and Wormtail was hypnotized. He was so kind, so benevolent, he could see it in his face, hear it in his voice…

Saruman was pleased that his power with words was working on the "wizard." He knew that at any moment he could compel Wormtail to do his bidding. But first he wanted to find out more about him.

Wormtail followed Saruman into the tower. They went to a central room with many openings, and then into Saruman's study itself. On a pedestal, glowing faintly, was a small orb.

"What is that?" Wormtail asked, staring at it. "Is it a crystal ball?"

"No," Saruman said, relieved that Wormtail didn't seem to recognize it, but wondering if _palantir_ was what he meant by "crystal ball."

"I need you to tell me something," Wormtail said, slightly hesitant. "I need to know if you know any other wizards."

"I know many. Why?"

"Well…I came with someone, but…I lost him."

"Did you? What is his name?"

"He…" Wormtail hesitated. "His name is Voldemort," he said quietly.

"I believe I have heard that name before," Saruman said, frowning. "I…will check, to be certain. If my initial thoughts are correct, I know where you will find your friend."

Saruman walked over to the _palantir_. He placed a hand over the orb in a position where his fingers were spread out over it. Then he closed his eyes and seemed to meditate. The orb glowed.

An eye appeared in the orb. But it wasn't a normal eye. It was frightening, menacing. Wormtail's own eyes snapped shut, trying to block out the eye that seemed to be burning his mind…

And then it was all over. Wormtail opened his eyes; Saruman stood, as pleasant as ever before, in front of Wormtail, and the orb glowed a faint white yet again.

"Your friend is far away," Saruman said.

"How far?" Wormtail asked nervously, wondering how Saruman was able to determine this just from spending a few seconds with a crystal ball, and hoping this wasn't some trick.

"It does not matter. You are welcome to stay."

"S…stay? But…"

"Your friend Voldemort wishes to help Lord Sauron find the ring of power. I, too, approached Sauron, though not in person, asking to help build an army for him in return for power. That means that myself and your Voldemort are both allies with Sauron, making us allies with one another. I would appreciate it if you would remain here with me. Will you?"

Saruman knew better than to leave it up to Wormtail to decide. He used his powers of persuasion on Wormtail, and he succeeded.

"Of course!" Wormtail said. "I shall stay here…at least for a little while."

"There are things," Saruman said as nicely as he could, "that I can teach you. You claim you have no powers other than what you showed me. That is not true. You are a wizard. I can feel it. You have power, but that Voldemort…I believe he was holding you back. I can teach you how to do things without a wand…or…" Saruman cast his staff aside and it clattered harmlessly against the wall. "Or without a staff. A wizard's mind is its most powerful weapon."

"You…you can teach me new powers? I would greatly appreciate it…"

A faint echo of something tapping three times on the main door caught Saruman's attention. "He is here! I knew he would come!"

"Who?" Wormtail asked fearfully.

"Nothing! Hide, Wormtail, underneath that table!"

Saruman threw a cloth over the _palantir_ and took off for the front door.

Wormtail hid underneath a large desk. He could hear mumbling voices, and then Saruman saying, quite clearly, "Come inside now, Gandalf, and make yourself at home."

Footsteps drew nearer. A man other than Saruman, who Wormtail was sure he had called Gandalf, said, "I cannot stay long, Saruman. There is a pressing matter I must attend to."

Saruman led Gandalf into the study where Wormtail was hiding under the desk. Both sat down.

"Tell me about this pressing matter," Saruman said.

"Saruman, you have always been the master of ring-lore. The One Ring…"

"Has been found," Saruman interrupted. "I know. And I also knew that you knew. You spent so much time with hobbits…"

"I never said this had anything to do with hobbits."

"Doesn't it?"

"Well…yes…but how could you know?"

"You always underestimated me, Gandalf. You and Galadriel always thought I was slow. But I am ahead of you. Far ahead of you. Do you know that the Dark Lord has rebuilt Barad-Dur? And do you know that…"

"I know about Barad-Dur!" Gandalf said angrily. "I know…"

"Do you know," Saruman said, rising above Gandalf's voice until he was quiet, and then, repeating in a soft voice, "do you know that wizards have come from the other world?"

Wormtail blinked. He had never told Saruman he was from another world, just that he was from far away.

"You…you are certain?" Gandalf said in a disbelieving voice.

"Very certain," Saruman replied.

"And…more than one?"

"Quite a few, if I am correct."

"Where are they?"

"Their leader is in Mordor."

"Mordor?! He has challenged the Dark Lord already?!"

Saruman laughed, and Wormtail thought his laugh was sinister, much like Voldemort's. "Challenged the Dark Lord? No, no, Gandalf. They didn't come to challenge the Dark Lord. They have come to ally themselves with him."

"Ally? But…"

"It seems that He has indeed returned, but that He has changed his mind."

"Impossible! Last time He…"

"He has seen that all will be lost if we do not join the Dark Lord."

"That is not true," Gandalf said, his voice quavering.

"How can you be so sure, Gandalf? Do you not see the signs? The Dark Lord has returned to Mordor, and has rebuilt the tower. The elves are leaving. The Men only care for themselves, not Middle-earth. The dwarves are dying out. And the number of orcs is growing. We will die, Gandalf, if we do not join Lord Sauron. Middle-earth will fall to his power; that is obvious. The question is, what side will we be on? Shall we die like heroes that nobody will remember when Darkness covers this land? Or shall we join the Dark Lord, in all his power, and become more powerful ourselves?"

"You are mad!" Gandalf cried, standing up. "Study of the Dark Lord has turned into obsession! You have been twisted to Sauron's will! You think that if you find his ring for him, you will have power? You are wrong, Saruman! Sauron does not share his power, not with you, and not with Him! There is only one Lord of the Rings!"

Saruman jumped up. His staff, which had been on the floor, flew into his hand. Gandalf turned and started to run.

Saruman ran after him. Wormtail crept out from under the table and watched, careful not to be seen. Gandalf was in the circular hall, heading for the exit, when the door slammed shut in front of him. Gandalf turned to another door, but it closed, and then another…

All of the doors suddenly closed, including the one that Wormtail was looking out of.

Wormtail sat in Saruman's study, listening to shouts and bangs, hoping that Saruman would pull through as the victor in what was obviously a Middle-earth-style wizard duel. However, always on guard and ever-ready to switch sides when he needed to, Wormtail formed a plan in his mind of what to say to Gandalf if Saruman were to lose.

_I'm a prisoner here…I'm one of the men who came in from the other world, but I'm on the good side, and I've come to kill Voldemort because he's on the bad side, and I thought Saruman would help me, but he turned out to be evil, so he imprisoned me, but I just now escaped because I turned into a rat and slipped through the bars, and now I'm here and I need help…yes, that'll save me, at least until this Gandalf finds somebody else from my world…_

But Wormtail didn't need to worry. After about ten minutes, Saruman came back inside, his white robes spattered in some places with blood. "We do not have to worry about Gandalf the Grey anymore," he said. "And now that he is imprisoned on top of my tower, I can begin my work. He will watch my orcs tearing down the forest and damming the river. Come, Wormtail. There is much work to be done, and I shall need your help."


	11. Chapter 11: Midges and Worms

Chapter 11

Midges and Worms

Strider knew the area surrounding Bree very well. He warned them about a place called the Midgewater Marshes that was coming up ahead. After a few hours of traveling, he led them up to a small cave and looked around at them. Then he pulled out a pack and started unloading various weapons.

Merry and Pippin were given small daggers, but everyone else was entitled a short sword. "I bought these in Bree while you were all asleep," Strider said. "There's one for everyone."

Dumbledore surprised everyone by refusing when Strider offered him a short sword. "No need," he said.

"Trust me," Strider said firmly, "you _will_ need it."

"I already have a sword," Dumbledore said simply.

"You…you do?" Strider said, surprised.

"You do?" Harry, Hermione, and Neville said altogether.

"Yes," Dumbledore said. He held open his cloak on his right side and showed them all. Attached to his belt was a scabbard, and in it was a jewel-encrusted sword.

"Let me see that!" Strider said, amazed.

Dumbledore removed the sword from its scabbard and handed it to Strider. Harry only needed one glance at it to tell him what it was. "The sword of Gryffindor."

"The sword of who?" Strider said, staring at it.

"Nothing," Harry said quickly.

"Isn't that the sword you used to kill the basilisk?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah," Harry said.

"What's a basilisk?" Pippin asked.

Strider started swinging the sword around, testing its strength and balance. "It's good," he said, handing it back to Dumbledore. "No. I take that back. It's excellent. Mine is still better, of course, but…your Gryffindor must have been a great warrior to have a sword like that."

"Thank you," Dumbledore said, sheathing the sword.

They spent the rest of the day trudging through the marshes. There were midges everywhere, and they seemed more attracted to the hobbits than the humans. Sam started calling them names and shouting at them to go away, but it didn't help. Bill the pony, whom they had brought in Bree and used to carry some of the packs (Ron had named it after his oldest brother), had it worse than anyone. The hobbits took turns leading him, and it took nearly a half hour to get him out of a particularly deep part of the swamp.

When they finally did make it out everyone, including Strider, admitted they were tired. They found a nice little place to set up camp and settled down. The hobbits cooked a very small meal after which all four of them fell asleep almost immediately, Neville included. Dumbledore leaned against a wall and lightly dozed for a while before completely falling asleep himself, as did Harry.

Hermione was tired but restless. After about an hour of troubled sleep she woke up and looked around. Ron was nowhere in sight. Hermione frowned. Ron had spoken little since his vow to rescue Ginny. Hermione decided it would be best to leave him alone, wherever he was.

Then Hermione heard a faint noise. She realized Strider wasn't around, either, and stood up. Not far from the camp, Strider was sitting, singing softly to himself in a different language. Hermione was intrigued. She stared at him, open-mouthed, as he sang, and heard the words in her head over and over again, trying to make sense of them.

Strider looked up at the stars, still singing, and then suddenly gasped and stopped. He had seen Hermione. "Why are you watching me?" he asked, totally stunned.

Hermione looked around at her sleeping friends. Not wanting to wake them, she headed over to where Strider was and sat down next to him. "Sorry," she said. "I just heard your song…it was beautiful."

"You think I am a good singer?" Strider said, suddenly very interested in Hermione.

"Well…I said the _song_ was beautiful," Hermione said quickly.

"Ah."

"Who was she?" Hermione asked suddenly.

"Hmm?"

"Who was that woman you were singing about?"

Strider's eyes narrowed. "You can understand Elven languages?"

Hermione bit her lip. "No…I can't."

"Then how did you know I was singing about a woman?"

"I…I didn't."

Strider frowned. Hermione said nothing.

"Well, in answer to your question, I was singing about Lúthien Tinúviel."

"Who is that?"

"She was an elf woman."

"Elf…what do elves look like?"

"I keep forgetting you're not from around here. Elves…elves are among the most beautiful things to walk this earth…we will be seeing some soon, at Rivendell."

"Have you been to Rivendell before?"

"Many times…I grew up there. Elrond, a wise elf, raised me like a son."

"Why did you grow up in Rivendell? What happened to your parents?"

"My father was dead. My mother brought me to Rivendell to protect me."

"From what?"

"Er…nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Well…it is not important. You…you would not understand."

"All right…"

"I learned that song I just sang in Rivendell. It is actually very long, like an epic story…Lúthien did many interesting things."

"Like what?"

"Well, the most interesting thing she did was she loved a mortal man, Beren." Strider smiled. Apparently this had some sort of hidden meaning to him. Suddenly he became very interested in the ring on his finger.

"That ring," Hermione said slowly. "Is that like Frodo's ring?"

Strider laughed. "What, this? No, this is a family heirloom. It does not have any powers. But it is not just any ring, either. If people see me with this ring, they know who I am."

Hermione risked getting a little closer to him to see the ring's design. "Snakes," she said, somewhat distastefully.

"You do not like snakes?"

"No. And in my world they usually represent Dark Wizards…one of the most powerful Dark Wizards ever had a snake as his symbol…and You-Kn…I mean…_Voldemort_…he likes them, too."

"That is strange…I like snakes. I do not believe there is anything evil about them."

"So, is your family important or anything? I mean, you have a ring and all…"

"You know, for a woman, you are quite curious."

"And what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Are you married?"

"_Married_? I'm only fifteen!"

"My mother was younger than that when she married my father…"

"Well…" Hermione started angrily, but she calmed down. "Your culture is different from mine…why did you ask that, anyway?"

"I was…"

They suddenly heard a cry. Hermione and Strider hurried over to the main camp; Harry was awake, and his eyes were wide. The cry had also awoken Dumbledore.

"What is wrong?" Dumbledore whispered, not wanting to wake the others.

"I just had…a vision," Harry gasped. "Another of Voldemort's visions…"

"What happened?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"He…he was torturing Ginny," Harry said. "He was torturing her, with his wand…"

"Did you see where they were?" Strider asked curiously.

"They were in…a room…it was very dark…" Harry concentrated. "There was…yes, there was some sort of throne behind them…a black throne…the room was all black…except the throne had…a symbol on it…a red eye."

"Mordor," Strider said instantly.

"Now we know they have indeed gone there," Dumbledore said.

"Is Ginny all right, though?" Hermione asked, considering this more important.

"I…I don't know," Harry admitted.

There was a pause.

"Go back to sleep, Harry," Dumbledore said, lying back down himself.

Hermione heard a rustling in the bushes near them as something left that area. It may have been a large animal, but Hermione suspected it was Ron.

-------------------------

"Someone is riding to the door," Wormtail panted.

"Is he on horseback?"

"Yes," Wormtail said, a bit confused. He thought that anyone "riding" to the door would have to be on horseback.

"Did he look like some sort of messenger? With a banner, perhaps?"

"No, he just looked normal…"

A knocking on the door echoed all the way into Saruman's study, as it was designed to do. Saruman threw a cloth over his _palantir_ and hurried to the door. He signaled for Wormtail to stay in the study.

Wormtail sat down in Saruman's chair, waiting.

He heard Saruman open the door, and then a mumbling voice. "Why, of course!" Saruman cried. "Come in! Wormtail, I want you to come here, please!"

Wormtail hurried over. He stared at the visitor.

He was a man. He was not necessarily short, but the way he hunched over when standing made him seem smaller than he really was. He had long, greasy hair, and very pale skin, giving him the appearance that he did not often see sunlight. His robes were all black, and Wormtail noticed with a jolt that he did not have eyebrows.

"It is nice to see you again. You have not come by Orthanc for a long time…too long. Well, Wormtongue, I would like you to meet my associate, Worm_tail_."

Wormtongue was surprised by the name. "Wormtail?" he repeated.

Wormtail nodded.

"Wormtail, this man is our voice in the kingdom of Rohan," Saruman said. "He is…" Saruman's eyes twinkled. "He is _influencing_ the king."

"Nice to meet you," Wormtail said, holding out a hand. Wormtongue awkwardly shook it.

"Wormtongue," Saruman said, leading him and Wormtail into the study, "are things in Rohan going as we planned?"

"Yes, my lord," Wormtongue replied with a bow of his head.

"My good fellow, there are no 'my lords' here, remember!" Saruman said with a smile. "You can address me in any way you like. I would prefer it, however, if you called me by my name."

"All right…Saruman," Wormtongue said, looking disturbed. Wormtail smiled to himself as the three sat down; he was still getting used to the fact that Saruman was so friendly compared to Voldemort.

"So the king is…"

"I have only just begun my…duties…Saruman."

"Has anyone noticed anything yet?"

"I have good news," Wormtongue said, sitting up straighter. "The king fell ill on his way back from a long trip. Only a small cold, but enough to attract attention. The spell is not noticeable, considering he already looked ill. As long as I continue on a regular basis he will only appear to be getting worse because of that cold. Nobody will see it for what it really is."

"You are putting a spell on the King of Rohan?" Wormtail said excitedly; he did not know very much about Rohan, except something Saruman mentioned about it being a country of Men on Isengard's borders.

"Yes," Saruman replied. "And the longer he reigns under that spell, the more time we shall have to build up an army large enough to destroy Rohan."

Out of the corner of his eye, Wormtail saw Wormtongue close his eyes for a moment, as if disturbed. He was glad Saruman did not notice.

"Now," Saruman said, "I have pits to look after. The faster these orcs are ready the sooner this war can be over. Wormtongue, you are welcome to stay here as long as you like."

"I cannot stay long, lord," Wormtongue said, forgetting to call him Saruman out of habit. "I am afraid my people will notice if I stray…"

"What people?" Saruman asked curiously.

"Ex…excuse me, lord?"

"If you are doing your job with the king, he should not notice anything."

"The king is not the only one with a seat of power in the court of Rohan," Wormtongue mumbled.

"You mean the king's son, Prince Théodred?" Saruman asked.

"Well…partly."

"He will be eliminated before the real war begins, I assure you."

"But he is not the only one."

"Who do you mean, then?"

"The…the main threat is Éomer, lord."

"Éomer?"

"You…you do not know Éomer?"

Saruman smiled. "I have known many with that name in my long lifetime…and many others with similar names that I cannot distinguish right now. Who is the Éomer you are referring to?"

"Éomer is the nephew of King Théoden. He is Éowyn's brother."

"Éowyn?"

Wormtongue turned slightly pink. "Éowyn, the White Lady of Rohan."

"Ah yes," Saruman said, a smile spreading slowly across his face. "Your promised prize."

"Y…yes, lord," Wormtongue stammered, clearing his throat.

"Work your magic on Éomer as well," Saruman ordered.

"He is strong-willed, lord," Wormtongue said nervously. "I have tried already. He…he felt something…I am afraid to do it again."

"Then ignore him," Saruman said. "Let him be suspicious…for now. When the king is completely under my control we can be rid of him. Now how long do you plan on staying, if not for too long?"

"Only for this night, lord," Wormtongue replied.

"That is fine with me," Saruman said. "Wormtail can help you find a place to stay. The two of you should get acquainted with one another. But now I go to the pits."

Saruman strode past them, heading for the main door.

The two men started ascending the stairs, with Wormtail in the lead, thinking both about a place for Wormtongue to stay and trying to start a conversation.

"So, are you from Rohan?"

"Yes. What land do you belong to? Gondor?"

"Isengard," Wormtail replied simply.

Wormtongue gave a crooked smile. "Yes, I suppose I do not really belong to Rohan anymore, either."

"I saw your reaction to Saruman's words," Wormtail said, wanting to turn the conversation away from himself. "You didn't look too pleased when Saruman said the orcs would destroy Rohan…"

"Rohan is the land of my people," Wormtongue said with a sigh. "They will always be my people…I was wrong. Rohan will always be my land. When you have betrayed your homeland—when you have seen people die because of your betrayal—then you will understand how I feel."

"But I do understand!" Wormtail said quickly. "I…I betrayed my people, too…I betrayed my best friend." Wormtail's voice fell to a sort of hollow whisper. "My best friend James and his wife…I knew where they were hiding…they trusted me. Only I knew. And I…and I told the Dark Lord…and he killed them."

"Then you do know how I feel," Wormtongue said, surprised. "We are alike in something other than name."

"If you can put a spell on a person, it means you are a wizard, doesn't it?" Wormtail said.

"In a manner of speaking," Wormtongue replied with a shrug. "I have studied from Saruman in the arts of hypnotism through voice. It is one of Saruman's specialties."

"Then we are alike in more ways than you think," Wormtail said. "I'm a wizard, too…or _was_. My powers are lost with my wand. The only thing I can do now is turn into a rat."

"Turn into a rat?" Wormtongue repeated.

"Yes," Wormtail said, smiling wryly. "Wormtail is my name because of my ability to turn into a rat. It's what my friends used to call me. Rats have tails that look like worms."

"Interesting," Wormtongue said.

Before his very eyes, Wormtail turned into a rat. He scampered up the steps a little before turning back into a human again.

"_Very_ interesting," Wormtongue said.

"Thank you," Wormtail said breathlessly. It took a lot of energy to turn into an animal so quickly, and walking up the stairs was tiring enough.

"So, how did you get the name Wormtongue?"

Wormtongue hesitated. "Er…long story."

After a few more seconds of silence, Wormtongue said, "Are we almost there?"

"Yes…here it is."

Wormtail turned away from the main spiral staircase into a hallway where he led Wormtongue to a room. Saruman had made Wormtail become very familiar with the tower, and convinced him that because Voldemort and he were allies, Voldemort would not mind his staying at Orthanc as long as Saruman wished. He asked Wormtail to treat it like his home.

"This will be your room," Wormtail said, opening the door to an average-sized room that had not been used for centuries yet appeared prepared for visitors.

"Thank you," Wormtongue said.

Wormtail was about to leave when he turned back around. "What will happen to your people?" he asked. "The people of Rohan?"

"The people of Rohan will die," Wormtongue said simply.

"All of them?"

"I hope not." Wormtongue heaved a great sigh. "Saruman, as kind as he may seem, shows no interest in the people of Rohan. He told me women and children will be slain along with men…that it makes no difference to the orcs or to him. I only hope that I can get Éowyn out of there before the slaughter begins."

"Éowyn…you mentioned her. Saruman said she was your prize?"

"Yes," Wormtongue replied. "My prize for serving him. I give him the king, he gives me Éowyn. But I have a strange feeling that it won't work that way." Wormtongue smiled a bit maliciously. "I do, however, live in the same palace as Éowyn. And at least the hypnotic powers Saruman has given me might be good for something other than bending the king of Rohan to my will."

Wormtail hesitated. "Er…yeah. Well, I'd best be going."

Wormtail left and started walking down the stairs, shaking his head. _Just when I thought he understood me…just when I thought he was the only one…oh, Wormtail, who are you kidding? They're all evil, the whole lot of them. You are, too, you know, even though you won't admit it to yourself…_

_You will always be alone._


	12. Chapter 12: Unpleasant Encounters

Chapter 12

Unpleasant Encounters

Sirius, Lupin and Tonks were lost.

They had strayed from the main road only to find a burnt-down village, and couldn't remember how to get back again. Sirius was moodier than ever, and Tonks spent her time trying to liven things up by singing and talking, which only made Sirius worse. Lupin ignored them and tried to think of something to get them out of their mess.

They had all lost track of time since leaving the road. They had just about given up hope of finding some place with food when Tonks heard hoof beats in the distance. "I swear that's a horse!" she cried.

"Then there might be a person on it," Sirius said, scanning the area.

"And it might not be a good person," Lupin pointed out.

"Right," Sirius said. "It sounds like they're coming toward us, but they're too far away to see us yet. Let's hide back here until they get closer and we can see who it is."

An unusually large boulder in the middle of nowhere proved an excellent hiding place for the three as Sirius peeked over the top, waiting for the horse to get closer. He had been right; not only was there a person on the horse, it was headed right for them.

"It's a man," Sirius whispered to the other two. "I…I can't see him very well…hold on…he's got this big shield on his back and he's wearing all this fancy stuff…probably somebody important…"

"Does he look nice?" Tonks asked.

"I don't know, but this might be our only chance to ask for directions," Sirius said.

"All right then," Lupin said. "Let's go."

The three stepped out from behind the rock. The man on horseback slowed to a stop in front of them. He looked very happy to see them.

"Greetings, friends!" he called. "I travel from Gondor on errand to a land called Imladris, an elf-haven on the other side of the Misty Mountains. I have lost my guide and the main road, and for many days I have been traveling without finding it. Can you assist me?"

All three hearts sank. "We're lost, too," Tonks said glumly. "We were hoping you could give us directions."

"Oh," the man said, looking upset. "Well…I cannot help you much, although I believe I know the general direction of things. Are you Rohirrim? For you do not look it…"

"We aren't Rohirrim," Sirius said. "We came here from a town called Bree."

"Bree? Hmm…I have never heard of it. But then again, I do not often venture so far from Gondor. Wait! I never introduced myself, did I? I am Boromir, son of the Steward Denethor, of Minas Tirith."

Lupin bowed his head respectfully. Tonks and Sirius followed his example. This pleased Boromir. "Travelers, where is it you wish to go?" he asked curiously.

"To Isengard," Sirius replied.

"Isengard?" Boromir repeated. "Yes, I have heard of this place…you are not far from Isengard, if my knowledge of that land is correct. There is a great wizard who lives there, or so I have heard."

"We have business with him," Sirius said.

"Ah," Boromir said, trying not to look suspicious. "I see…well, I may not be able to give you directions to Isengard, but I do know where you can find someone to help you. Edoras, capital of Rohan, is not far from here. The Rohirrim are friendly with the wizard in Isengard, or so I believe, and their lands are far too close together not to know where the other is. Edoras is very close. I passed by there only yesterday. Head…"

"If you passed by there only yesterday, then why didn't you ask them for directions to your elf place?" Sirius asked suspiciously.

Boromir was taken aback. Tonks managed to slam her foot down on Sirius's without Boromir noticing.

"My errand," Boromir said, with a note of annoyance, "is very secret. I cannot trust the people of Rohan with the information I have. If I told them my destination, they would surely question me about it."

"We understand," Tonks said quickly, before Sirius could ask why he would tell three random travelers where he was going but not the people of Edoras.

"Well," Boromir continued, "as I was saying, Edoras is very close. It is large, and set on a hill, so it is difficult to miss. Just head due east and you are sure to come upon it."

"Thank you," Lupin said. "We greatly appreciate your help, and we are sorry we cannot give you help in return."

"It is all right. I shall manage. Farewell, my friends, and good fortune be with you on your travels."

Boromir rode off.

"Glad he's gone," Sirius said.

"What was _that_?" Tonks asked angrily.

"What?" Sirius asked.

"That…that 'why didn't you ask them for directions' thing? Are you _always_ like this to strangers?"

"I don't like him," Sirius said. "There was something about him. 'My errand is very secret.' What is that supposed to mean? And he claims to be the son of some steward, and he also says he's far from his homeland, but he travels alone."

"He said he lost his guide," Tonks reminded him.

"Yeah, well, that's a really stupid excuse," Sirius snapped. "I don't think we should trust him. I don't think we should go to this Edoras place. He said himself that he doesn't trust the people there with his special information; why should we?"

"If I recall," Lupin said calmly, but with a touch of annoyance, "_you_ trusted two strange men in a pub with our information. If there is a chance people there might help us, then by all means, let's find this Edoras place so that we can get to Isengard _before_ Voldemort takes over the world."

------------------------------------------

"That is Weathertop," Strider said, pointing.

"Are those ruins on top of the hill?" Neville asked.

"Yes," Strider replied. "This used to be an outpost in the kingdom of…oh, never mind. Let us just go over there. We can camp for the night."

There was something about the way Strider said this that worried Hermione. As they were heading up ancient steps that led to the top of the hill, she asked, "Is there something you're not telling us?"

"Stop asking me questions," Strider said.

"You know something," Hermione said firmly. "Something about this place."

"Yes, I do!" Strider said exasperatedly. "I know many things about this place! But they are not important right now!"

Hermione sighed and continued walking, but she was sure Strider looked nervous.

After they set up camp, the hobbits started singing songs. Strider asked them to lower their voices. When Pippin wanted to know why, he said simply that it was annoying, but everyone could tell there was something else on his mind. Hermione noticed that his hand strayed to his sword hilt every time he heard a sound emerging from the darkness.

The company enjoyed only two hours of peace before the trouble began. There was a loud shriek from somewhere close by—a shriek that was all too recognizable.

Strider leapt up and ran to the edge of the hill. Then he ran across to the other side and looked out. "Five Nazgul!" he cried. "They followed us from Bree!"

The hobbits struggled up. Sam kept a wary eye on Frodo, who looked disoriented, and probably not from sleepiness.

"You knew this was going to happen, didn't you?" Hermione asked Strider. He didn't respond.

"All of you get around Frodo," he said, facing them all. "If they get the ring, the world is lost."

Frodo went to a back corner, and all of them surrounded him, weapons in hand.

Strider pulled out his sword and stood, ready.

Harry unexpectedly stepped away from the group surrounding Frodo and went up next to Strider, holding out his short sword.

"What are you doing?" Strider hissed. "They're almost here!"

"You're going to need help," Harry said.

"Get back with the others!" Strider said urgently. "You might be killed!"

"Harry," Hermione snapped, "this is no time to…"

But there would be no more arguing. The five Nazgul were surrounding them on all sides of the hilltop, swords raised.

Strider lunged at two of them, screaming. The Nazgul screamed back. He started fighting them both, and Hermione gasped. _Oh, what an idiot! He's going to get himself killed, and we won't have a guide…_

But Harry was the real idiot. Seeing Strider's move, he imitated him, and went after two Nazgul himself. "Harry, NO!" Hermione cried.

"Harry, get over here!" Ron said.

But Harry didn't listen. He tried hitting them with his short sword, but it didn't seem to affect them. One of the Nazgul strayed away, heading for the group surrounding Frodo. The remaining Nazgul reached out a clawed hand, and suddenly Harry remembered another scabbed hand reaching out from under a ragged black robe, and a woman screaming…

Harry hesitated, and the Nazgul made its move. The clawed hand grabbed Harry's wrist and snapped it. Harry screamed in pain and dropped his sword.

The Nazgul raised his sword, ready to strike, but Strider appeared out of nowhere with a flaming torch and thrust it right through the Nazgul's back. The Nazgul shrieked and disappeared down the hill, its robe in flames.

Meanwhile, the company surrounding Frodo was having bad luck. Nobody was skilled with a sword other than Strider, and all anyone could do was block. But slowly and surely the remaining four Nazgul were breaking up the group, heading for Frodo…

Strider flew back into action, taking on a Nazgul that was furiously dueling with Dumbledore and Ron. Strider blocked every move, and when he finally saw an opening he thrust his torch through the creature. Like the other one, it shrieked and ran.

Now Harry was in trouble again. Another Nazgul had come at him, and Hermione had desperately run over to help him because he was forced to try and block with the short sword in his left hand. Hermione was only a little better at holding it off than Harry, and its blows were so fierce that with every block her strength started to fail. Strider knew she wouldn't be able to hold it off for much longer but also saw another Nazgul heading for the four hobbits and Neville. He threw his flaming torch at the one attacking Harry and Hermione with amazing accuracy, setting its head on fire. Then he went after the one heading for the hobbits, managing to drive it away but not hurt it because his torch was gone. Hermione ran immediately over to the fire and winced with pain as she grabbed a flaming log. She headed over to Strider as fast as she could and handed it to him, but this Nazgul was worse than any of the others so far…and nobody saw the other one going after Frodo, because nobody saw Frodo. He had put the ring on in self-defense.

Frodo could see more than just black robes when he looked at the Nazgul approaching him. He saw a face—a thin, white, pointed face—and a crown on its head. The Nazgul pulled out a sword and stabbed Frodo through the chest.

Frodo cried out, and at the same time pulled off the ring. Suddenly everyone saw him. Strider ran after the Nazgul that hit him, fighting ferociously with the most powerful of all the five (and technically all nine). The other Nazgul had all fled, and everyone watched as Strider dueled with the last one. Then, finally, he managed to set its robes on fire. It shrieked like the rest and took off.

Sam was kneeling next to Frodo, who looked like he was dying. Strider hastily pushed Sam out of the way in order to inspect Frodo's wound. Everyone could tell by the expression on Strider's face that the diagnosis was not favorable. Strider picked up a sword that lay next to Frodo. "Morgul Blade," he said, and as they looked at it, the blade shattered into dust.

"We have to get Frodo out of here," Strider said quickly. "This wound is no normal one. The powers in that blade…they will turn him into a wraith, like the Nazgul. If we do not hurry, Frodo will pass into shadow…"

"What can we do?" Sam asked, crying.

"We have to get him to Rivendell," Strider replied.

"But that's days away!" Merry said.

"We can do it," Strider said firmly. But in his eyes Harry, Hermione and Dumbledore could tell he didn't have much hope.

----------------------------------------

"Father?"

"Yes?"

"Just how powerful is Sauron?"

Lucius Malfoy smiled. "_Very_ powerful, from what the Dark Lord tells me. He controls this whole land of Mordor, and is planning on destroying Gondor, the greatest kingdom of Men…"

"If he's so powerful, why should he need us?"

Lucius frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, why's he letting us stay in his tower? And why does he talk so much to the Dark Lord, and tell him all his plans?"

"It is a beneficial alliance to him. This way, he learns about the other world."

"But couldn't he learn about it just as easily torturing us, or something? Why would someone so powerful waste his time with people like us?"

"Do you deny our Dark Lord's power?"

"Well…no…but…"

"There. A beneficial alliance."

Lucius Malfoy turned and prepared to leave the room.

"Father, wait," Draco said quickly. "I have another question…"

"What is it now?"

"When the Dark Lord…" Malfoy hesitated. "What did he do to the Weasley girl? I mean when she first came, and…"

"It does not concern you."

"Of course it does! If I want to become powerful, I'm going to have to learn spells like that eventually…"

"You can learn more about it when you are ready to," Lucius snapped. "I have business to attend to."

_What business? He's as bored here as I am…I bet he doesn't even know how to do the spell the Dark Lord performed. I bet…I bet he doesn't even know what it is…just like he doesn't understand what Sauron is up to…_

For the first time in his life, Draco Malfoy began to doubt the intelligence of his father. As he continued to ponder the mysteries behind this new alliance, he could hear through the open door the screams of Ginny Weasley, who was receiving her daily torture from Lord Voldemort. He went up and closed the door, but while this may have lessened the effect the screams had on his ears, he could not ignore the effect they were having on his mind.


	13. Chapter 13: Unexpected Generosity

Chapter 13

Unexpected Generosity

"Is that it?"

"It must be."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I see buildings up there. Don't you?"

"I can't tell. I'll have to trust you."

"I think I can see something, but the sun is right there."

"I swear this is it."

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"That! From behind us!"

The three friends turned around to the unmistakable sound of hooves. But this time, it was definitely more than one horse.

"Hide!"

"There's nowhere _to_ hide!"

"Look at them all!"

"They'll see us for sure! We have to get out of here!"

"Too late. They saw us."

"There's another horse, coming from over there. See it?"

"I'm not worried about the other horse, I'm worried about all of these ones!"

Unable to escape, they were forced to wait for the approaching horses, hoping for the best.

Éomer was returning to Edoras with a small group of soldiers when he saw three people heading for the city. He and his men immediately surrounded them.

Éomer ordered for spears to be pointed down at them. He studied their faces as he pointed his own spear down. Two were men, one was a woman. All three were armed and looked very tired. The woman looked scared, one of the men nervous, and the other man angry. "Is this the way you treat travelers?" the angry man (Sirius) asked, glancing at a spear an inch from his head.

"Yes," Éomer snarled. He decided immediately that he did not like the man. "By what authority do you come to Edoras?"

"By our own authority," Sirius said angrily.

"Don't hurt us!" Tonks pleaded. "We're just trying to get to Isengard!"

"Isengard?" a voice behind Éomer said.

Éomer sighed and rolled his eyes. Wormtongue had appeared out of nowhere behind Éomer on his black horse.

"Wormtongue, get out of here," Éomer said.

But Wormtongue had a look of sheer delight on his face as he studied at the three travelers. The morning he left Orthanc Wormtail had told him to look out for suspicious travelers who could be from the other world, and hinted that Saruman would be very pleased if he discovered any.

"I would like to interrogate these three," Wormtongue said.

"Why?" Éomer and Sirius said together.

"Because," Wormtongue said, "I have good reason to believe they are spies."

"_Spies_?" Sirius repeated. "You think we're _spies_?!"

"Yes," Wormtongue said simply. "And if I was in your place I would shut my mouth, seeing as at any moment I can order my men to thrust those spears through your chest."

"You are mistaken, Wormtongue," Éomer said, seething. "These are _my_ men, not _yours_."

"Oh, _of course_. Forgive me."

"Now," Éomer said, "if these three really are spies, _I_ want to interrogate them."

"No!" Wormtongue said furiously. "Let me have them!"

"I will not give prisoners up to _you_…"

"When the king hears about this…"

"Fine! I will reason with you. You may take one of them, and I will take the other two."

"I will take two, and you take one," Wormtongue said forcefully, looking Éomer in the eyes.

"I…yes, all right," Éomer said, his voice faltering and looking slightly confused.

"I am glad you agree." _I'll find the other one and kill him or her later._ "Now let me see…who should I take…"

"And why do _you_ get to decide?"

Wormtongue ignored Éomer. "I will take him and her," he said, pointing. "And half of your men to help me guard them so they do not try and escape," Wormtongue added.

_At least he calls them my men now._ "All right, I will take the other one."

Tonks and Sirius looked around as they were led up the hill toward the palace of Edoras. The place looked more like a village than a city; Bree had been full of inns and shops, but Edoras looked like a conglomeration of farmers living in huts. And everywhere they saw horses.

"This place is full of horses," Sirius whispered to Tonks, "and I don't just mean live ones. Look at those flags…and even on the houses, those designs! Everything has horses on it! These people are obsessed!"

"I know what you mean," Tonks said, glancing around. "Weird…"

The giant palace at the top of the hill was breathtaking after seeing so many small huts.

Tonks and Sirius stared at it, open-mouthed, as they were led by Wormtongue up the steps to the top. Guards nodded at Wormtongue and opened the door for them, and they entered the Golden Hall of Meduseld.

Pillars were everywhere, and on them were elaborate designs of horses. Flags with different pictures of horses lined the wall, and sitting majestically before them was a throne. It was empty.

"Come on," Wormtongue said, leading them out of the hall. They passed into a small corridor, lined with doors on both sides. Wormtongue went to the very back and took them through one; the room inside was empty, and appeared to be a storage room for food.

"Get against the far corner, please," Wormtongue said maliciously.

Sirius and Tonks obeyed. Sirius was trying to think of a plan in his mind of how to get out of this just in case the interrogation didn't go well; Wormtongue seemed very convinced that they were spies. But he couldn't think of anything, and without their weapons, which had been taken by some of Éomer's men, they were defenseless. Sirius was also worried about Lupin. Even if he and Tonks did, by some miracle, escape from Wormtongue, they would have to find Lupin and rescue him as well.

"Have you heard of the name Wormtail?"

Sirius snapped back into reality. "Wormtail?" he repeated. "Is he here?!"

"Perhaps," Wormtongue said, looking at a nice, shiny long sword he now held. He smiled at it, then looked up at Sirius. "So you _have_ heard of him."

"Yes," Sirius said.

Wormtongue suddenly held the sword out toward the two, grinning evilly. "He told me I might come across people who knew him."

"So he's your friend, is he?" Sirius said through gritted teeth.

"Oh, yes," Wormtongue said. "Quite an interesting person, if you ask me."

"Do you take pleasure in killing people, too? What's your name again? Wormtongue? Did you name yourself after him?"

"I tire of this," Wormtongue said maliciously. He approached them, his sword pointed at Sirius.

Sirius knew he couldn't turn into a dog; the sword was too close to him, and he would probably end up getting stabbed. He glanced nervously at Tonks. _If she could change her hair color, or something, it might distract him long enough for me to try and knock the sword away…_

Wormtongue glanced at Tonks and smiled. "Do not try making any moves," he said, "or I will make your friend's death more painful. You are lucky, you know…you are a woman, so I will not kill you. You can be my personal prisoner for a little while until I take you to Wormtail…I'm sure he would be pleased if I delivered you to him alive…"

Tonks glared at him, trying to think.

But it was far too late. Sirius and Tonks were trapped in a corner, and not only was Wormtongue blocking their only way out, he was blocking any view of the rest of the room…which is why they didn't see the person behind him.

"Drop it," a voice said.

Wormtongue sighed and straightened, lowering his arm to his side. He backed away from the two in the corner and turned to a woman. "Éowyn, this is not…"

"I said drop it," Éowyn said warningly, pointing a sword at him. Wormtongue let his sword fall with a clatter to the ground. Sirius immediately lunged for it, but Éowyn's sword was on him before he could even come close. "Do not even consider it," she said warningly, and she quickly turned back to Wormtongue, ignoring Sirius and Tonks.

"You know you are not permitted to execute people without notifying the king," Éowyn said.

"The king is ill."

"Then Prince Théodred."

"Théodred is away."

"Then Éomer."

"Éomer…"

"…Would be furious if I told him about this."

"These people are spies!" Wormtongue cried. "I have to kill them now…they're…they're wizards!"

"Wizards?" Éowyn repeated, taking a quick look at the two. "They do not appear to be so."

"They have special powers," Wormtongue said. "They…"

"I do not need to hear it. Now get out."

"But we cannot let them go free!"

"You heard me."

Wormtongue hesitated. He looked hard at Éowyn and said, in a strangely soothing voice, "We cannot let them go free, Lady. We cannot let them go free."

Éowyn blinked slowly and said nothing.

"We cannot let them go free," Wormtongue repeated in the same soft voice.

"He's doing something to her!" Tonks whispered urgently to Sirius.

Sirius looked from one to the other. "Éowyn!" he cried.

Éowyn snapped out of it. She looked confused. "What…"

"We cannot let them go free," Wormtongue repeated.

"I disagree," Éowyn said furiously. "Now get out." She held her sword firmly pointed at Wormtongue.

"You cannot kill me," Wormtongue said.

"No, I suppose I cannot. But I _can_ hurt you. And I swear I will if you do not leave this room right now."

"Yes, my lady," Wormtongue said with a sigh, bowing as low as he could while still avoiding the sword. He backed away and picked up his own sword. Then he glared at Sirius and left.

"I apologize for his behavior," Éowyn said, watching Wormtongue go. "I do not know what he was talking about…"

"We're not spies," Tonks said quickly.

"Do not worry, I do not think you are spies," Éowyn said, smiling at Tonks. "Here, let me help you two up."

Éowyn gave Tonks a hand, but Sirius got up by himself. Tonks was still very shaky after their near-death experience, and so was Sirius, although he tried his best not to show it. He turned to Éowyn. "Thank you for…"

But something happened that made him stop.

Tonks didn't understand why Sirius had paused mid-sentence. He stood there staring at Éowyn as though he had just realized she was there. Éowyn looked confused for a moment, but then she, too, started staring at Sirius in the same, strange way.

Tonks looked from one to the other, frowning. Neither of them said a word.

"We have to find Moony," Tonks said impatiently.

"Moony?" Sirius repeated, blinking and looking confused. "Oh…oh! Éowyn, there's a man named Éomer…you mentioned him to Wormtongue. He has our friend. Do you think you can find him?"

"Éomer?" Éowyn repeated. "He…He has your friend?"

"Yes!" Tonks cried. "Can you take us to him?"

"Éomer will not harm your friend if I tell him not to…come on! I will help you find him."

Éowyn took off. Sirius and Tonks ran after her. Tonks shot Sirius a questioning glance, but Sirius pretended he didn't notice and focused on following Éowyn down the corridor.

They made a sharp turn into another corridor, where Lupin and Éomer were both standing.

"Éomer!" Éowyn cried. "Let him go!"

"I was going to do so anyway," Éomer said with a shrug.

"So you convinced him you weren't a spy!" Tonks said to Lupin.

"He didn't have to," Éomer said. "By the time my men had all their horses in the stables and we reached the palace we ran into Wormtongue, who looked furious and told me that you had set the other two free, Éowyn. The more he tried to convince me they were all guilty, the more I started to believe they were innocent."

"Well," Sirius said, turning to Éowyn, "thanks for…" he paused. Éowyn was purposely not looking at him. Sirius turned to Éomer instead. "Thanks," he said quickly. "But we have to get going. Do you know where Isengard is?"

"Yes," Éomer said. He quickly gave them directions. "And I'll lend you some horses."

Éowyn was surprised at Éomer's generosity. "How kind of you," Éowyn said to him.

Éomer shrugged. "Isengard is not far. If these three die, the horses will still find their way back to Edoras."

"That's a comforting thought," Lupin said with a smile.

"Anyway, follow me," Éomer said. He started to walk away. Lupin and Tonks followed. Sirius started to, but he hesitated. Éowyn was heading in the other direction. Éomer, Tonks, and Lupin didn't notice that he wasn't with them when he went back to find Éowyn.

When Sirius found Éowyn she was about to step into a room. "Wait," he said hesitantly.

Éowyn tried to look surprised, but he could tell she was uneasy. "You…you are still here?"

"I…er…" Sirius paused. Now that he was here, he suddenly wasn't sure why he had come.

"I am very busy," Éowyn said. Rather than going into the room, she turned away from it and started walking down the corridor very fast. This time, Sirius didn't follow her.

Sirius headed back the way he had come and then over toward where Éomer had been leading Tonks and Lupin. Eventually he reached the main hall, where all three of them were standing. "Where were you?" Tonks asked.

"I got lost," Sirius said.

"But you were right behind us," Lupin said.

"It doesn't matter, does it? I'm here right now."

Tonks noticed that Éowyn wasn't present. She didn't think it was a coincidence.

Éomer took them outside. "Wait until you see the stables," Lupin whispered to Sirius.

Éomer led them to the stables. From the outside, they didn't look like much, but when Sirius and Tonks stepped inside, they gasped.

Almost everything looked like it was made out of solid gold, and beautiful designs of horses and men were everywhere. It was certainly more beautiful than the Golden Hall of Meduseld. "They sure do love their horses," Sirius mumbled.

Éomer lent them three wonderful horses and told them they should be on their way. They all thanked him over and over; the horses Bill Ferny had given to them were more like donkeys compared to these, and they knew that if the horses lived in solid gold stables, they had to be worth something.

Éomer headed back up to the palace, which was not far from the stables. He had gathered much more from what Wormtongue told him than any of the three thought. He believed them to have a very important mission in Isengard, and also knew that it was something that strongly displeased Wormtongue. He had suspicions about happenings in Isengard, and even more suspicions about Wormtongue, so he hoped that his suspicions were correct and those three were out to solve the problem.

Éomer stood on the steps leading up to the palace, watching the three horses ride down the hillside past the villages. Suddenly he turned and saw Éowyn standing there next to him, looking disturbed about something.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

She didn't reply. She was gazing out at the three horses riding away, which were only specks now.

"I have a feeling we shall see them again soon," Éomer said.

"So do I," Éowyn whispered.

---------------------------------

"Hello?"

There was no answer. Draco Malfoy hesitantly swung the door before him open. Huddled in a dark corner was a girl.

Draco stepped in and closed the door behind him.

"What do you want?" said a faint voice.

Draco paused. "Are…are you all right?"

"No," Ginny said faintly.

"Er…I brought you something," he said, reaching into his robes. He pulled out a piece of moldy bread. Slowly and hesitantly he walked over to Ginny. She stared at the bread.

"You can have it," Draco said, handing it to her. "I don't want…I'm not really hungry."

"If Tom found out…"

"He won't, if you eat it," Draco said with a shrug.

"Thank you," Ginny said awkwardly, taking the bread. She looked hard at Malfoy. "You used to be jerk."

"Er…" Malfoy hesitated. _Why am I being nice to her, anyway?_

Draco noticed she wasn't eating the bread. "I didn't poison it," he said quickly.

Ginny looked up darkly at him. "Maybe you should have."

Draco blinked.

"Go," Ginny said. "Get out of here, before he comes."

Draco hesitated.

Ginny sighed and took a bite of the bread. She was surprised at how good it tasted (despite its mold) and ate the rest of it very quickly. "Go now," she said.

Draco left the room. It wasn't until he had closed the door behind him that she whispered, "Thank you."


	14. Chapter 14: Old Friends

Chapter 14

Old Friends

"Look, Mr. Frodo. It's Bilbo's trolls!"

Frodo opened his eyes and looked around. He could only make a strange gasping sound in reply.

"Strider, what can we do?" Pippin asked fearfully. Frodo's eyes were an insanely bright blue and his skin as white as his teeth.

"Get Sam over here," Strider said, thinking quickly.

Sam ran over. "Is there something you want, Strider?" he asked. He was teary-eyed.

"There is a plant," Strider said quickly, glancing around. "It's called athelas. It might be able to help Frodo. Have you heard of it?"

"Athelas, sir? No…"

"It's also called Kingsfoil."

"Kingsfoil? Aye, I know that one…"

"Can you help me find some?"

"Yes, sir…"

Sam and Strider immediately went off searching.

Harry suddenly gasped and held his forehead. Hermione rushed over to him. "Harry?" she said worriedly. "Harry, is it happening again?"

"Yes," Harry whispered.

"Oh, Dumbledore, what can we do?" Hermione pleaded to the old wizard. "Frodo's turning into a Nazgul and Harry looks like he's ready to pass out…"

"There is nothing we can do about either of them," Dumbledore said sadly.

"But….but you must know how to help Harry, at least!" Hermione said. "You know about all of that! Please, it's been going on all night…"

"I know, Hermione, but I am afraid that there is nothing I can do. Until Voldemort stops doing whatever it is that is aggravating Harry, he will continue to be this way."

Hermione sighed and hugged her knees.

Strider was running and looking around. Suddenly, there it was—athelas, exactly what he needed. Strider pulled out a knife and knelt next to it, starting to cut some…

"What's this? A Ranger, caught off his guard?"

Strider held back a smile. He could feel a blade barely touching his neck. "Arwen," he said, without having to look.

Frodo was having strange dreams. Everything was dark, so dark…

And then there was a light. It was coming closer, heading right for him. He stared at it, and it started to take shape. It was a woman, and she was speaking to him in a language that was familiar. This woman was an elf, and she was going to help him…

Arwen knelt beside Frodo, obvious concern on her face. "He's worse than I thought," she said. "He must get to my father."

"Is your father at Rivendell?" Neville asked.

Strider glared at him, considering him not important enough to take part in the conversation. Arwen stood up, and Strider led her away from the others and started questioning her in Quenya so they wouldn't understand.

"_You have a horse_?"

"_Of course_."

"_All right…stay with the others. Show them to Rivendell. I will take Frodo and_…"

"_Don't be a fool, there is not much time," Arwen snapped. "You know I am faster. We have to get him to Rivendell now. I shall take him_."

Strider sighed. "_Well…if you must, you can go. But there are five Nazgul in the area, so…_"

"_Of course I will be careful_," Arwen said. She ran over and picked up Frodo with ease. Then she jumped on her horse and set him in front of her. "_Namarië, Aragorn_," she said with a smile. Then she took off.

"See you in Rivendell!" Strider called after her.

Everyone stared at him. "First question," Dumbledore said. "Who was that?"

"That was Arwen," Strider said. He smiled. "An old friend," he added.

"_Friend_?" Ron said, raising an eyebrow. Hermione was happy to see him talking again.

"Yes," Strider said proudly.

"And she was an elf," Hermione said.

"Correct," Strider said with a nod.

"An elf?" Harry repeated, thinking of Dobby.

"Interesting," Dumbledore said, thinking along the same lines.

"And those are the people in Rivendell?" Neville asked.

"Yes," Strider said.

"I'm glad Frodo's with her," Merry said.

"Do you really think he'll be safe now?" Sam asked Strider.

Strider sighed. "I honestly do not know…"

---------------------

"I still can't believe we _passed_ Isengard on our way to Edoras."

"I think the horses are getting tired…they've been running ever since we left Edoras…"

"I'm still surprised we ever got out of there," Lupin said. "It was quite lucky, to have that woman save you two…"

"Yes, very lucky," Tonks said. "And it's lucky Wormtongue wanted to pick me and Sirius, instead of me and you, Moony. Sirius was the one who got the woman to save us, after all…"

"Don't be stupid," Sirius said. "She just didn't like Wormtongue…"

"_You're_ being stupid. Do you think I didn't see how you two were staring at each other?"

"Staring? What are you talking about?! I never stared at her…I hardly looked at her…"

"So you're going to deny it? How about the time when you mysteriously became lost trying to follow us to the stables right after Éowyn disappeared? Exactly what were you two doing?"

"Nothing," Sirius said angrily.

"Really, Sirius, what were you doing?" Lupin asked, but he also looked amused.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore."

Tonks screwed up her face, and, after a few moments of concentration, suddenly looked like Éowyn. "Oh, _Sirius_," she said, batting her eyelashes at him.

"Stop it!" Sirius shouted. Lupin was laughing. "You hardly even look like her," Sirius mumbled.

"Oh? That's quite an accusation, coming from someone who 'hardly looked at her'…"

Sirius stopped his horse and got off. "It's getting late, and I can't see right. Let's make camp here and in the morning we can figure out if we're going the right way."

The other two dismounted as well. "Maybe I can get to the top of that ridge, and see if I can spot the tower Éomer mentioned to me," Lupin said thoughtfully. The others agreed this was a good idea.

Lupin walked a little ways to get to the top. When he had, he shouted, "Come over here! Look!"

Sirius and Tonks ran over and looked where Lupin was pointing.

They had a clear view of Isengard.

The tower Orthanc stood majestically in the middle of a circle of desolation. The three could tell that it was once green and beautiful around Orthanc because of the forest and other plants surrounding it in the distance. But it was almost as if somebody had scooped up all the trees in the area around the tower. In their place were crude machines, dipping in and out of pits in the ground. They could hear the faint clang of metal on metal and strange, grunting noises in the distance.

"What is this, a factory, or something?" Tonks said.

"I wonder what they're making," Lupin said darkly.

"Orcs, actually," said a voice from behind them.

All three turned around. Wormtail was grinning at them all, holding a sword pointed right at Tonks. "Don't move," he said to Sirius and Lupin, "or she'll die. Now come here, miss."

Wormtail took a step back. Tonks hesitantly stepped forward. Wormtail continued this until they were a few feet away from Sirius and Lupin. Then Wormtail grabbed Tonks and put the sword up to her neck. Tonks bit her lip. It didn't look good.

"_You_," Sirius said, trembling.

"So, you _do_ recognize me," Wormtail said smugly. "I look a lot better now than I did when we last saw each other two years ago. You look a lot better too, Sirius."

"What do you want?" Sirius asked, although he was pretty sure he knew.

Wormtail laughed. "What do I want? Well, what do you think?"

"Leave Tonks alone," Lupin said quickly. "You can do whatever you want to us, but leave Tonks out of this."

"I'll do whatever I want to whomever I want," Wormtail said huffily. "You see, _I_ am the one with the sword." He smiled maliciously at Sirius and Lupin. "You know, I never understood why the villains in all of the stories like to waste time telling the good character their evil plots. It's so…stupid. Usually it gives the good guy's friends time to come and rescue them. But…but now I understand. It's…amusing. It's…_fun_. And there's nobody who is going to come and rescue you anyway. I saw you coming alone."

"You saw us coming?" Lupin repeated, liking the idea of Wormtail wasting time explaining things and praying for a miracle.

"Yes," Wormtail replied. "Let's just say Saruman has a nice little device he lets me use every now and then."

"Saruman," Sirius spat. "So he's your friend, is he?"

"Oh yes," Wormtail replied.

"Just like Wormtongue?" Sirius said.

"So you've met him? Funny. He never told me. Must have been recently. You came here pretty fast…did you ride on horses? Where are they, exactly?"

"Down there," Lupin said, pointing behind Wormtail. He was hoping Wormtail would be stupid enough to turn around, giving Tonks time to break free and he and Sirius time to get out their weapons.

"Lovely," Wormtail said, without turning around. "Anyway…about Saruman. He's a great person, you know. Much better than Voldemort. Voldemort was…cruel. Saruman is very nice to me. Treats me like an equal. He is teaching me powers that I can do without using a wand. Very nice man…well, he's not really a _man_. You know, he's allied with Voldemort and Sauron, but he plans to take over for himself after the war is over."

"As do all evil sidekicks," Sirius muttered, also liking the idea that Wormtail was wasting time but not really knowing what he was waiting for. _Maybe when it gets darker, we'll have a chance._ "You probably plan to take over after Saruman gains power, don't you? Or will you always be a stupid little sidekick yourself?"

"I don't want to take over," Wormtail said. "That's because I'm smarter than the rest. Don't you know that the person in charge is always the one that dies? Saruman will kill Sauron to gain power, and Wormtongue will probably kill Saruman to gain power, and then somebody else will kill Wormtongue to gain power, and I…I will remain alive while all the rest are dead."

"Wow, you really are _brilliant_," Sirius said sarcastically.

"Why thank you," Wormtail said, smiling even wider. "Anyway, I am happy now. I was never happy with Voldemort, but I am with Saruman, and with my friend Wormtongue."

Sirius kept glancing warily at the sky. It was cloudy and he could only see a few stars where there were breaks in the clouds, which was good, because it made it darker. He wondered if Wormtail could see them very clearly already…

"Sirius, are you moving?" Wormtail asked.

"No," Sirius lied.

"It appears that I can see better in the dark than you think," Wormtail said with a satisfied grin. "Now make one more move and I _will_ kill her." Wormtail looked up at the sky himself, but only for a moment. "It _is_ getting quite late, isn't it? I wonder why I am even stalling. I should get this over with."

"Wait!" Tonks screamed. "Please don't hurt us…"

"Don't worry," Wormtail said, and there was a strange sort of pity in his voice that Sirius was sure he was faking. "I'm not going to hurt you, just the other two…unless one of them makes a move."

"Then what are you going to do with me?" Tonks asked fearfully.

"Hmm," Wormtail said, pondering this. "I don't really know. I could imprison you in Orthanc…that would be the best course of action, I'm sure. But Wormtongue might try and…er…claim you. He's odd…I'd have to hide you from him. But I could do that. With Saruman's help…"

"And you're just going to kill Sirius and Remus, is that it?" Tonks asked.

"Well, seeing as they were 'just going to kill' _me_ two years ago, I don't see why I shouldn't return the favor," Wormtail said.

"Because I told you not to?" Tonks said hopefully.

"Sorry," Wormtail said, smiling. "That's not good enough."

"Because killing them won't solve anything?" Tonks suggested quickly.

"Nope," Wormtail said, enjoying this. "It will solve my problem of wanting revenge."

"Because…it's morally wrong, and you'll go to Hell?" Tonks said desperately.

"Too late for that," Sirius spat. "Little wormy is already going to Hell, aren't you?"

Surprisingly, Wormtail looked disturbed. He shifted uncomfortably, but still kept a strong grip on the sword pointing at Tonks. "He's right," Wormtail said. "It's too late for that, anyway."

"That's not true," Lupin said sharply. "You can still redeem…"

"No," Wormtail said fiercely. "You just want me to believe that so that I won't kill you. Well, you can forget it."

"Wormtail's right," Sirius said, his eyes glinting evilly. "There's no help for him now. He is _doomed_."

A huge, chilling gust of wind suddenly blew in from the mountains to the north. Everyone but Sirius shivered. _That is really creepy,_ Tonks thought. But it scared Wormtail more than the rest. He started shivering, even though the breeze was less cold now. This pleased Sirius. _He's losing it…_

Wormtail tried to control himself, but he was afraid. Sirius made it worse. "What's wrong, Wormtail?" he said. "All evil people get their comeuppance. You've been waiting for yours ever since you handed over Lily and James…"

Amazingly enough, another huge gust of wind blew in from the mountains. Wormtail started to look really scared now; Tonks, meanwhile, was trying to think of how Sirius could be controlling the wind to come at the perfect moments.

Suddenly, Lupin went rigid. His eyes turned skyward, and he slowly started to walk sideways, away from everyone. "No," he said. "No, it can't…"

"I told you not to move!" Wormtail said threateningly, coming to his senses at last. "You can't…" but his eyes followed Lupin's. Suddenly he shrieked in terror and dropped his sword. Tonks could hardly believe what was going on. Wormtail turned into a rat and scampered away as fast as he could, his sword falling to the ground.

"Sirius what…" Tonks gasped.

"GET OUT OF HERE, TONKS!" Sirius roared.

Tonks looked at Lupin and screamed. "Oh my God…"

"I SAID GET OUT OF HERE!"

Tonks was too terrified to move.

Sirius ran over and pushed her. "GO!"

Tonks gulped and started to run, away from Isengard, toward where they had come. The horses, which had been grazing, were gone, although she did not notice it. She kept running, not thinking clearly until she heard a yelp and the sounds of a vicious animal fight going on behind her. Hesitantly she turned back around, but was too far away to see anything. _What if Sirius is in trouble? What if he needs my help?_

Her hand strayed to the dagger she hadn't been quick enough to draw out when Wormtail appeared, but she quickly changed her mind. "If I go back there, we all might die," she said out loud. She turned and started running again.

How long she ran she did not know. She only knew that her legs were aching and she needed to stop. Her mind still raced, and she tried to collect her thoughts. _It's been a long time…I know it has…where are they? And where is the road? How did I lose the road? I thought I was on it…what happened to it? Where am I? Is Sirius all right? Could he be hurt? And Moony…what happened to them? Oh, what am I, crazy? I can't just leave them there! I have to do something!_

Tonks turned around and started running back toward Isengard.

After a while of brutal fighting, Sirius started to run. He was scared, because he was forced to run in the direction Tonks had taken (as there was no other way, unless he wanted to go toward the evil wizard's tower), but he was also relieved that they had passed no human beings since they left Rohan. _But could he possibly get all the way to Edoras?_ Sirius thought.

Lupin was right behind him, snarling like crazy and slowly gaining on him. Sirius tried to ignore a wound in his paw and attempted to gain speed, but it wasn't working. Lupin was catching up, and if Sirius went too fast, they might run into Tonks…

Sirius sharply turned left, hoping Tonks had continued straight. The left turn only brought Lupin closer behind him, but Sirius hoped that he would be all right if there really was a fight. His injured paw hurt even more when he cut it on a small, sharp rock; Sirius tried to focus on maintaining the same pace, hoping that Lupin was getting tired, but he knew it wasn't true, and that Lupin was getting much too close…

Tonks continued to run like mad toward Isengard. She ran almost twice as fast as she had on the way over without knowing it. She could see paw prints now, lots of them, and hoped she wasn't too late, noticing that some of them were marked with blood…

Quickly she noted that the paw prints went off to the right, and she followed them that way. She couldn't hear any fighting, and was sure she had taken too long running away, sure that it was too late…

Her worst fears came true.

There was Sirius, lying in a crumpled heap in the middle of a pool of blood. Tonks's scream came out as a faint gasp as the sound caught in her throat. Sirius wasn't moving, wasn't breathing…

"He's…dead!" Tonks gasped allowed through sobs.

Sirius had never felt so much pain in his entire life. He was dying, his life was slowly draining, he was losing consciousness…

And then he opened his eyes and saw something. _I know that woman, walking away. She's crying…what is she saying?_

"He's dead," Sirius suddenly heard very clearly. "He's dead…"


	15. Chapter 15: Rescue

Chapter 15

Rescue

Zendar walked quickly back to his tent, trailed by one of his soldiers. "Do not be too gracious," he said quickly. "We do not want to offend the gods. He may be an evil spirit in disguise."

"I agree, sir," the soldier said. He saluted smartly. "I will go back now."

"Yes," Zendar said. He opened his tent flap and frowned. His tent was empty. He ran over to another tent not far away, but it was also vacant. He walked up to a standing guard. "Where is Nurza?"

"He left not long ago, sir," the man said with a salute. "He said he had found something."

"Found something? What did he find?"

"I am not sure, sir. It was actually one of the soldiers that found whatever it was…they sent back for Nurza to come."

"Tell me if he comes. I will be in my tent."

"Yes, sir."

Zendar headed back to his tent and waited, shaking his head. _Could it really be a trap? Oh, where is Nurza when you need him? I have no idea if it's an evil spirit or not, and with my little training, even if I did think one way or the other my guess would be as good as anyone's…_

The tent flap opened. "Hello," Nurza said.

"Nurza!" Zendar cried. "I need to ask you…"

"Safe," Nurza said. "Absolutely safe. No evil spirits." A smile played on his face. "In fact, we have found a good omen."

"A good omen? Excellent! I was very concerned."

"Do you want to see the good omen?"

"Certainly, but…what is it?"

"Come with me."

Nurza beckoned Zendar outside and led him to a storage tent. Zendar could tell by the piles surrounding it that most of the supplies had been moved outside. He stepped in.

A mattress had been brought in and set on the floor. And on the mattress was a person. Zendar looked excitedly at Nurza. "It's a…"

"Woman, yes," Nurza said.

Zendar knelt next to the mattress. He reached out with his hand, touching her cheek, then smiled. "I believe this is a _very_ good omen…"

Tonks felt consciousness returning to her, and a sense of dread. She willed herself not to open her eyes, to enjoy peace for one moment longer before she remembered what happened. For a while she just stayed half-awake, trying not to think about anything—to rest. But then she remembered.

Tonks stirred. Somebody was touching her. She opened her eyes…and screamed.

The most fearsome-looking person she could ever imagine gazed back at her. His skin was blacker than any she had ever seen, except for the parts covered in paint. Below his eyes designs had been drawn with the paint, but from his neck down through the rest of his body different-colored paints had been smeared. But that wasn't the scariest thing about him.

The most disturbing thing was the piercing all over his body. His ears, his eyebrows, his nose, his lips…everything was pierced with bone, and plenty of times. The man also had a huge, most certainly ceremonial, necklace that covered most of his bare chest. Tonks was too frightened to look long at it, having a gut feeling that many of the bones were human. She also had a strange idea that the man was a cannibal.

"Get away from me," Tonks said, jerking her head away from the hand that had been on her cheek and sitting up.

The man grinned back, showing dazzlingly white teeth. He said something in another language she didn't know to a person near the back of the tent she was in. If anything, the giant man was more fearsome than the first, but it came as less of a shock, and she was more concerned with the man kneeling right next to her.

"Who are you people, and what do you want with me?" Tonks said in a trembling voice.

"You are a woman," the man in front of her said, with a very heavy and odd accent.

"Yes," Tonks said, staring at him. "What…"

"Your men keep you hiding?" he said.

"Excuse me?"

"Your men. They keep you hiding?"

"My men? What are you talking about?"

"No woman in battle. I think they keep you hiding."

"Who are you?" Tonks asked.

"My name is Zendar," the man said, grinning again.

"I'm Tonks," Tonks said nervously.

"Tonks," Zendar repeated. It sounded strange with his accent. Tonks actually smiled slightly, which pleased Zendar.

"White Woman," he said, "is your name. Now it is. You understand?"

"My name is Tonks," Tonks repeated.

"Your name is White Woman. It is omen…spirit name. You see?"

"No, I really…"

"Your name is White Woman," Zendar said firmly.

"Okay," Tonks said nervously. "Then…then my name is White Woman, if that's what you want."

Zendar turned to other man in the tent and started talking to him in his unfamiliar language.

"_How is my Westron_?" he asked with a smile.

"_It is all right_," Nurza replied. "_Not the best I have heard, but you get your point across_."

"_You were right_," Zendar said, grinning. "_She is good luck, Nurza, I can feel it_."

"_I should tell the men_…"

"_Tell them tomorrow they can come, and…and they can see, but not touch. She is my woman_."

Nurza frowned. "_Zendar, I really wouldn't…"_

"_That is easy for you to say_, _but this is me_. _She is good luck. You were right_."

Zendar turned back to Tonks and started to speak Westron again. "You come with me, White Woman."

"Where are we going?" Tonks asked uncertainly.

"To my…to my…" Zendar hesitated. He gestured all around him.

"Tent?" Tonks said.

Zendar frowned at the unfamiliar word. "Tent," he repeated. "Yes, White Woman, you come to my tent."

Zendar took her arm and pulled her up. Nurza was nervous about her condition, but she seemed fine enough. "_If she starts to look sick, you bring her straight to me_," Nurza said warningly in Haradrim.

"_Don't worry_," Zendar said quickly. He turned back to Tonks and started speaking Westron again. "Come on, White Woman, with me."

Tonks glanced nervously around after they exited the tent. Everywhere, men were pointing at her and gasping. But she was pleased when Zendar shouted at anyone who got too close to her and sent them off. Looking around at the rest of the men, however, showed her that Zendar was a man of great importance; not only did they back off immediately when he asked them to and often performed some sort of strange movement that she figured was a salute, none of them looked nearly as scary as he did, and most of them had little or no war paint with only a few body piercings.

When they entered Zendar's tent, Tonks' suspicions about his leadership were confirmed. His tent looked more like a large bedroom from the inside. The floor was covered with furs and his mattress was huge and also covered in fur. He had a pile of papers in the corner and Tonks noticed a map spread out on the floor. She tried to look at it but Zendar hastily rolled it up and put it in the corner with the other papers. "Not for you," he said.

Zendar smiled, pleased that she seemed impressed with his tent. "You like tent?" he said.

"Yes," Tonks said. She smiled at him, but still was nervous looking at him. His appearance continued to frighten her.

Zendar noticed this. "You…scare, White Woman? Or…afraid?"

"Not…not exactly," Tonks said. "Just…" she sighed. "It's nothing."

"Tell to me what is wrong," he said.

Tonks tried not to sound foolish. "It's just…" she paused. She pointed at his various bone piercing. "You look a little frightening to me."

"Oh!" Zendar said. Tonks was relieved that he seemed to understand. "White men, they do not have this," he said.

"You…um…I mean…you people don't seem like you're from…around here, you know? I mean…you're not…part of Rohan or anything, are you?"

Zendar frowned at her. "Not for you."

"You…won't answer my question?"

"No."

Tonks folded her arms. "Well…okay then…will you answer another question?"

"I could answer."

"Are you the leader of these people?"

"Yes," Zendar said. "I leader, yes, of these people."

"But…you won't tell me who you are?"

"It not important…it…it _is_ not important…not now."

"Then…what is important? Why did you bring me here? What do you want with me, exactly?"

"You with me, you good luck!" Zendar said, laughing.

Tonks scratched her head. "Um…okay…that…didn't really answer my question…"

Zendar's smile slowly faded. "You…do not understand?"

"No, I really don't," Tonks said. She sighed. "I wish my friends were here…" Tears filled her eyes suddenly. "Oh, Moony's probably dead too, both of them are! I should never have left, I might have saved him, he might not be dead!"

"Who is _he_, White Woman?" Zendar asked curiously.

"My friend," Tonks sobbed. "My two friends, one of them is dead, and the other probably is too…"

"Your friend…he white man?"

"Yes…"

"He sick? Fight?"

Tonks stood up suddenly. "You've seen someone? You know what I'm talking about?"

"There is man, here, he is sick, he is hurt by attack of some…thing," Zendar said, thinking very carefully about his words so that Tonks would understand. "He is your friend?"

"That must be Moony!" Tonks cried.

"Moo-ny?"

"Yes, he's my friend! That must be him! Oh, could you take me to him? Please?"

"I take you…now?"

"If you don't take me now I'll find him myself!" Tonks cried.

Zendar hesitated, then muttered something—probably a curse—in Haradrim. "Right, we go," he said a little reluctantly.

Zendar took her outside and led her past more tents until he reached a particular one. "You, you with friend, you talk," he said, gesturing at the tent. "I am awaiting you."

"Thank you," Tonks said. She stepped inside.

Sitting inside the tent was the most miserable-looking man Tonks had ever seen. When he saw her he was surprised, but only for a moment. He stared at her with tear-filled eyes. "You're unharmed," he said, with a note of relief.

"Yes," Tonks said, holding back tears of her own. She had never seen Lupin like this, and it was scary. She noticed he was dressed in the clothes of the Haradrim, and also that he was covered in bloody bandages. But the worst thing was his face. He looked like he was ready to lie down and die.

"Moony," she said, "what…"

"Don't ask me what's wrong," Lupin said in a choked voice. He blinked back tears. "Please, don't ask me."

"Okay," Tonks said gently. "Okay, I won't ask…" She couldn't hold back. She started sobbing. "Oh, Moony, you look so terrible! Isn't there something I can do to help?"

"No," Lupin said in the same choked voice. "He's dead, and I killed him. Nobody can help that."

"Wait," Tonks said, shaking her head vigorously. "No, no, you didn't kill him…"

"Yes I did."

"It…it wasn't _you_, Moony! You didn't do it on purpose, you didn't mean anything…"

"I had forgotten," Lupin said in a barely audible voice. "In the beginning I kept track, but I had forgotten. It's all my fault."

"It is _not_ your fault, you couldn't…"

"It _is_ my fault, Tonks. You just don't understand."

"I understand! _You_ don't understand! You're just upset; you're trying to blame yourself…"

"I have to leave," Lupin said quickly. "I can't stay here. I have to…to…go…"

"Go? Why?"

"I'm not letting this happen again. I can't stay. I have to leave here now."

"But where would you go?"

A shadow seemed to pass over Lupin's face, and he said nothing.

"You…you can't leave me here! Moony, what will I do without you? All alone, in this world I don't know, with these strange people I don't know…"

Lupin suddenly realized what Tonks was saying. _I can't leave her…but…_

"All right," Lupin said in a strained voice. "I'll stay…for you. But…but I will leave when…when it gets close."

"Thank you," Tonks said, hugging him, but also being careful not to hurt him. "Thank you…"

--------------------------------

"Those are carrion crows," Théodred said, frowning.

"There must be something dead over there," Gamling said, shielding his eyes as he looked over at the black specks flying around in circles.

"It might not be dead yet," Théodred said, turning his horse, Brego, in that direction.

"Oh, don't go over there," Gamling said. "It's probably just a dead animal…"

"But it might still be alive! I have to help it! Gamling, you take command for a minute. I am going."

Théodred rode off in the direction of the crows. Gamling sat on his horse, shaking his head in pity. Another captain rode up to him. "Gamling, sir? What's going on? Where is Prince Théodred off to?"

"Finding some animal," Gamling said with a sigh.

"Why?"

"Don't you remember the rabbit last winter?"

"Rabbit, sir?"

"Prince Théodred found a dying rabbit near the mountains and almost got himself killed trying to save it in the middle of a huge blizzard. He has always had a soft spot for animals."

"Well, he is a prince," the captain said with a shrug. "It's not like we can tell him what to do."

"We can tell King Théoden to talk to his son and put some sense into him. This is going too far."

"The king is still ill," the captain said. "Nobody knows what is wrong with him."

"It is not serious, is it?"

"I have no idea. None of the doctors can figure it out. We summoned for a doctor from Gondor, but nobody came."

"Why was I was never told?"

"We don't want to worry the men, sir. Sorry nobody told you. Only a few people know."

"I see…next time, tell me."

"Yes, sir."

Meanwhile, Théodred bit his lip. It didn't look good. _Poor animal. I wonder what happened to it? It is still alive…but barely. Maybe there is something I can do…_

Théodred got back on his horse and rode over to Gamling. "I need some help…"

An hour later, Gamling was complaining. "This is insanity," he said to the captain, when he was sure Théodred wasn't listening. "I can't believe we're dragging that thing all the way back to Edoras."

"What is it, anyway?" the captain asked. "I thought it was a bear."

"Prince Théodred says it's a dog, but it's about twice the size of any dog I've ever seen," Gamling said. "Looks more like a monster. It'll probably eat us once it has enough strength…"


	16. Chapter 16: New Friends

Chapter 16

New Friends

"We have arrived! This is Rivendell!" Strider said excitedly.

Walking past a waterfall, the company stared in awe at the beauty before them; there was a moment of silence before Sam said, "I want to see Mr. Frodo." He was impressed, but his worry for Frodo threw a shadow over the landscape.

"Of course," Strider said. "He is probably in the House of Elrond. I will take you there."

Elves bowed at the travelers as they passed. "They're an odd bunch," Ron whispered to Harry.

"I know," Harry replied, feeling uncomfortable in such surreal surroundings.

Their dreamlike walk finally ended when they arrived at their destination; Elrond greeted them outside his door. "Welcome to Rivendell," he said, looking surprised at the large size of the group.

"These are friends," Strider said quickly.

Elrond smiled at Strider. "It has been a long time," he said. "Too long, in fact. Why do you rarely come to visit?"

"That would be my fault," said a voice behind Elrond. "He has been doing favors for me."

"Mr. Gandalf!" Sam cried.

Gandalf stepped out into the open, smiling at the hobbits and looking curiously at the others. "I am sorry I could not meet you in Bree," he said. "I was…delayed."

"I must speak with you," Dumbledore said quickly. "I have news that may interest you."

"No doubt," Gandalf said, raising a bushy eyebrow. "I shall speak with you la…" he saw the look on Dumbledore's face. "Now," he said.

"Good," Dumbledore said. "Harry, you and the others wait here."

Dumbledore and Gandalf started to walk off. "Who are you?" Gandalf asked, finding a nice bench to sit down.

"My name is Albus Dumbledore," Dumbledore replied. "You are Gandalf, a wizard…"

"Yes."

"I am also a wizard."

Gandalf frowned. "That is not possible," he said slowly.

"I am not from Middle-earth, as you call it."

"You! You must be…but you cannot be…you must be another, an enemy of Him…you are from…another world…the white tree…but it is dying, it is in Gondor!"

"I came through a white tree, yes," Dumbledore said quickly. "I came out in a forest…"

"A forest?" Gandalf repeated. "That is odd…"

"I met those hobbits in the forest. They told me about you. I wanted to see a wizard…to warn you."

"What is it that you need to warn me about?"

"There is a dark wizard from my world who has passed through into Middle-earth. He is very powerful, and I fear he will use his evil magic to gain power in this place. His name is Voldemort. We believe he has gone to Mordor."

"To Mordor…He must be the one who…" Gandalf paused. "Continue."

"He has servants here, in Middle-earth. They will probably try to influence people to join his cause…"

"They may have gotten to Saruman already," Gandalf said to himself, shaking his head. "A pity."

"I came to this world with others…the students you saw with me. One of them is a powerful wizard; it has been prophesized that he is the only one who can destroy Voldemort forever. The others are his classmates. They were only to come as far as Bree, where I was to meet you…but something happened. One of them, a young girl, was kidnapped by a servant of Voldemort and taken to Mordor."

"Then she is lost," Gandalf said sadly. "I am sorry, but there is nothing anyone can do for…"

"If the ring will go to Mordor, we will go with it," Dumbledore said firmly.

"You know about the ring?"

"Yes. We traveled with Frodo."

"And he simply told you ever detail about it?"

"No, we did not tell each other anything about our quests. But when Ginny Weasley was captured…I told him where we had really come from, and he told us about his journey. I assure you, he would have told nobody else."

"I hope so. The ring is supposed to be very secret."

"I am aware of that. But this is all beside the point. As I said, if the ring goes to Mordor, I shall go with it, to rescue Ginny Weasley."

"If your enemy kidnapped the girl and brought her to Mordor…then it is a trap, intended to lure you to that dark place."

"I know. But I am hoping to use it to my advantage."

"The ring…the ring needs to go to Mordor, but…many are blinded. It may not ever reach Mordor, Albus Dumbledore. It may fall into other hands. The fate of the ring will be decided in a council that is to take place in a few weeks' time. For now I wish for you to stay here in Rivendell and wait."

"I do not have a few weeks to spare."

"Then you will go to Mordor alone."

"Why must we wait to have the council?"

"Many representatives from different lands have not arrived yet. And, more importantly, the Ringbearer is still unconscious. He needs time to recover."

"I understand," Dumbledore said with a sigh. "I…I should have never brought Ginny here…it was foolish."

"Do not worry," Gandalf said softly; he was beginning to like Dumbledore. "Most likely the enemy is keeping her alive, to ensure you come to rescue her. There is hope."

"Yes, I suppose so…" Dumbledore paused. "I sent three from our world ahead of me. I wonder if…" suddenly he remembered. "Saruman! That name, you mentioned it…"

"Saruman is a wizard, previously head of the White Council. He has fallen to the dark side, I am afraid."

Dumbledore's eyes widened. "Dark side? The three wizards I sent ahead…Strider said they were going to Isengard, to see Saruman and warn him of Voldemort's arrival here…"

"I see…Saruman would not want to kill wizards from another world…but I did not see them at Orthanc, and he did not mention them. Perhaps they did not find him."

"Strider said they had guides."

"If they did enter Isengard, and told Saruman what you have just told me, then I fear for their safety. He may be holding them prisoner."

"It was all a mistake," Dumbledore said, shaking his head. "I should have come alone…"

"Had you come alone, I would not have trusted you," Gandalf said. "Now I do. I think we can help one another…"

Although they were disappointed in the long delay before the council, the company was pleased to have a pleasant place to rest after their hectic journey. Elrond found them a place to stay, and most of the travelers enjoyed themselves in the days they spent waiting for Frodo to recover. Arwen was living in Rivendell, and after a brief talk with Hermione the two women went off together. Harry noticed her immediate interest in the elves and wondered if it would be like her obsession with house-elves.

Harry didn't like the elves much; he appreciated what Elrond was doing for Frodo (and for some healing he received for his broken wrist), but there was something very disquieting about the seemingly perfect place. He and Ron spent most of their time together alone talking about various things concerning Middle-earth and home, although rarely discussing anything they painfully missed and never mentioning Ginny.

Dumbledore and Gandalf spent almost all of their time together, exchanging information. Harry, who had spoken to Gandalf very briefly, asked the hobbits questions about him. From what they said, he reminded Harry very much of Dumbledore, and Harry had a feeling the two old wizards would become good friends.

The hobbits stuck together, away from the elves. Occasionally Merry, Pippin, and Neville would visit Frodo, but nobody was at his bedside more often than Sam. Sam liked Rivendell, but he and the other hobbits shared similar views about wanting to leave. Sam decided that as soon as Frodo was better they would leave Rivendell and the ring behind them and return to the Shire, as hard as it would be to part with their new friends.

-----------------------------

"Draco?"

Draco jumped. "Oh…my Lord, I…I didn't see you…"

"Where are you going?"

"Nowhere, just…walking…"

Voldemort glanced down the hallway. "The Weasley girl's room is at the end."

"Yes, I…I know…"

"How did you know?"

"I…I saw you coming out of there, my Lord…"

"Very interesting, because some orcs saw _you_ coming out of there yesterday."

Draco frowned. "Oh…well…yes, I did go in there once…"

"Why?"

Draco shrugged, trying not to look directly at Voldemort; his father had warned him about how eye contact enhanced the Dark Lord's Legilimency abilities. "She used to bother me a lot when we were back at Hogwarts. I thought I might return the favor."

"Does it make it more enjoyable, now that she is weak?"

"I…" Draco hesitated, not understanding what Voldemort wanted him to say. "I suppose not, Lord."

"You would rather torment her properly? Give her all her strength back, and a chance to defend herself?"

"Yes," Draco said, now looking up at him. "Because then I would defeat her, and it would show my power over her…she would be afraid of me, and I would be able to hurt her more. It would be better than if she believed she could beat me fairly."

"So you do not believe she can beat you fairly?"

"Of course not."

"Why, then, did you claim she bothered you at school, and now, when she is weak, you are 'returning the favor?' Why have you waited until now to do this?"

"Well…I haven't, exactly, I mean, I used to bother her at school too, but she always surrounded herself with friends to protect herself…"

"And you did not?"

"Yes, I did, but…" Draco paused. "I guess I was too concerned with other matters back at Hogwarts. I guess I didn't really think about bothering her too much…maybe I'm only starting to do it now because I have absolutely nothing else to do."

"Well that is interesting," Voldemort said, and he was smiling. "I like your answers, Draco. And I will tell you something…I have no problem with you tormenting the girl, because you may be able to hurt her in ways that I cannot. However, I would like to point out to you that you now have a new option for something to do—talking to me."

"Thanks…"

"Do not thank me just yet. Sometimes when I allow my Death Eaters to speak freely to me, they say things that are…regrettable, and I do not let them have second chances."

"I…I understand…"

"Walk with me."

"Where are we going?"

"Why are you questioning me?"

"I was just wondering…you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

Voldemort smiled again. _This one is a leader, not a follower._

"We are going to see your father."

"Is that really necessary?"

"Yes, because I want to show you something."

"What?"

"I want you to listen to him. Listen to everything he says to me, and tell me what you observe."

"All right…"

They entered Lucius's room. "Malfoy," Voldemort said, "get up."

Lucius, who had been sitting, hastily stood. "Yes, my Lord?"

"Have you seen the Weasley girl recently?"

"N-no, my Lord…did you want me to?"

"Do you think you have any reason to see her?"

"Should I, my Lord?"

"Should you think, Malfoy? Is that what you are asking me? Is that something that needs to be permitted by me?"

"I would never do anything without your permission, my Lord…"

"Even think?"

"Even think, Lord," Lucius said proudly. "I would die at your command."

"Die, Malfoy."

Malfoy's mouth opened slightly, but no words came out.

"That is my command," Voldemort said.

"But…but my Lord…" Lucius sputtered.

"You question my decision?"

"Well, yes, I…I mean I…"

Voldemort smiled. "It is all right, Malfoy…never mind. I have decided to let you live."

"Thank you, my Lord…you…you are very kind, my Lord…"

"That will be all."

Voldemort turned and walked out. Draco could tell his father was staring at him as he followed Voldemort outside.

"What do you think, Draco?" Voldemort asked, when they were a little ways off.

"I think I understand what you wanted me to learn…my Lord."

Voldemort raised an eyebrow. "Really? I'm not sure you do."

"My manner toward you has been…incorrect, and I apologize to you…my Lord."

Voldemort laughed, and it was quite a frightening sound. "You have completely missed the point. If I had disapproved of the way you spoke to me, I would have told you earlier, not wasted my time speaking to your father to help you understand. What I mean to show you is that your less servile attitude toward me is unique…I know my Death Eaters well, and nearly all of them speak to me in the same manner as your father, although some more dramatically than others."

"You mean…I can keep acting the way I normally would, and you won't mind?"

"If I do, I will tell you…and if I alert you to a mistake, Malfoy, I expect you to never make that error again."

Voldemort turned and walked off. Draco could hardly believe what just happened. _I think he likes me even more than my father…and wait a second! He…he called me Malfoy…_


	17. Chapter 17: Familiarity

Chapter 17

Familiarity

Éowyn wandered around outside, trying to find Éomer. She found him near the stables, where he was looking around suspiciously, as if waiting for something bad to happen. Éowyn, who knew he was often paranoid, hardly took any notice. "Éomer, when is Théodred coming back?"

"Any day now. He's probably on his way right now."

"I have not had a decent conversation with him since before you all left. I hate it how everyone is always leaving, with me forced to stay behind in the palace…"

"I know you wanted to come with us, Éowyn, but I cannot put you in any danger. You are safe here at Edoras." Éomer saw her frown and decided to change the subject. "How is Théoden?"

"He is quite ill, Éomer. I fear for him. The doctors all say he is fine physically, except that he is very weak." Éowyn lowered her voice. "They think it might not be physical at all. They…" She stopped. She didn't want to say it.

"That cannot be true," Éomer said quickly. "His mind is as strong as anyone's. It is simply a strange illness, and…"

"Lord Éomer!" a guard said, approaching him.

"Yes?"

"Three horses have returned to Edoras without riders. They are of these stables. I fear they are horses of Théodred's men…"

"Let me see them!" Éomer said quickly.

Éomer and Éowyn headed over to where the horses were. One look told Éomer everything he needed to know. He shook his head grimly. "No, these are not of Théodred's men…put them back in the stables, and give them plenty of food and water."

Éomer started to walk back up to the palace. Éowyn followed. "Éomer, whose horses were they?"

"Those were the horses I lent to the three travelers, whom I am sure you must remember," Éomer said. "They must be dead."

Éowyn was shocked. "But…how?"

"I do not know. Perhaps Wormtongue was able to get word out of their departure."

Éomer, clearly no longer wishing to discuss the matter, walked through the palace doors. Éowyn remained standing outside, totally baffled. _Dead? All three of them? But…but how? It…it cannot be. They cannot be dead, it does not make sense…but why not? Why do I have this feeling that they cannot be dead?_

Wormtongue suddenly ran out of the palace right into her, nearly knocking her over. "Sorry!" he said, hastily helping her steady herself. Then he ran into the stables. In a matter of seconds he and his black horse were galloping away.

Éomer returned shortly after Wormtongue was out of sight. "Gone to report everything to Saruman, I suppose."

"Oh, Éomer," Éowyn said, rolling her eyes. "Wormtongue is many things, but he is no traitor. I wish you would stop saying such things."

Éomer sighed. "But he…" Éomer paused, and squinted out. "Look! Horsemen…Théodred has returned!"

Éomer and Éowyn ran all the way away from the palace steps until finally they caught up with Théodred. He looked very pleased. "Successful," he said. "We ran into a small group of wild men, but I got them to surrender without a fight."

Éomer marveled at this. Prince Théodred was the only man alive who could get a group of insane savages to surrender without a fight.

"Will you be leaving again soon?" Éowyn asked worriedly.

"No," Théodred said, smiling, "or at least I hope not. If I do end up having to leave soon, I want to make sure I spend plenty of time with you before I go."

Éowyn grinned. "Thank you."

"Come here, Éowyn, I want to show you something," Théodred said suddenly.

"What is it?" Éomer asked.

Théodred hesitated. "Er…I do not think _you_ would find it very interesting."

"Fine," Éomer said, walking away to attend to other matters.

Théodred led Éowyn over to a cart; on it was a giant black creature. "What is it?" Éowyn whispered excitedly.

"It is a dog I rescued," Théodred said. "It is badly hurt, but I think it will live if I help it."

"_That_ is a _dog_?" Éowyn said, staring at it.

"He is just a bit big, that's all." Théodred said, petting it.

Sirius slowly started to regain consciousness. When he opened his eyes, two people were hovering over him. One of them he didn't recognize at all; the other one he knew at once. _I must be dreaming of her again. I can't be in Edoras, I'm in Isengard…_

Éowyn stared at the dog's eyes and gasped. "What is it?" Théodred asked.

"That dog," she said, backing away. "I have seen it before…"

"Where?" Théodred asked curiously.

"I…I do not know…have you ever seen it before, Théodred?"

"I think I would remember it if I had seen it," Théodred said, staring at the large dog. "But where might you have seen him? I do not think he's ever been in the palace before, or I would have recognized him. And I doubt he belongs to any of the peasants, at least one of my men would have seen him…unless you saw him recently."

"I do not know where I have seen him," Éowyn said, still gazing at the dog's black eyes. "But I have seen him somewhere."

The familiarity of the dog was starting to scare her. And then, slowly, it started to lose consciousness again. Its eyelids drooped and closed.

"Poor thing," Théodred said. "He must be very tired. I am going to take him into the palace and take care of him…just make sure Éomer doesn't see him, all right?

He would not understand."

Éowyn nodded, still staring at the dog. Finally she turned around and headed back for the palace, feeling very disturbed in a way she couldn't explain. Then, suddenly, she saw another horseman approaching from the distance. "Who is that?"

"I do not know," Théodred said, frowning. "He must be a messenger…he bears a flag, although it is like none I have ever seen…we must tell my father…"

"Your father is still quite ill, Théodred…"

"Oh…well…I suppose I shall talk to this man, then…"

-------------------------------------

"I wish Frodo would get better so we could leave," Harry said with a sigh. He and Ron were sitting at the head of a large staircase that spiraled down into Elrond's museum. Ron had been down there and didn't find it very interesting. Harry wasn't very enthusiastic either; he liked the paintings and artifacts, but he had no idea what any of them were, and the descriptions were all in Elven.

"I dunno. I don't think this place is so bad."

"I don't like the elves."

"At least _that_ I can agree with. But you have to admit, the girls are pretty good-looking."

"And they're a thousand years old."

"Well, there's that, too. But still." Ron looked out of a window. "Look at that one."

Harry sighed and poked his head out next to Ron's. "Which one?"

"That girl, right there, standing next to that gazebo thing."

"Yeah, I guess she's all right…looks kind of familiar…"

The elf they were looking at turned and started to walk more toward their direction. Ron's jaw dropped. "Wait," he said.

"What?" Harry asked.

"That's not a girl," Ron said.

Harry looked closer. Ron was right—the tall elf with brown hair that they had been looking at, who was wearing what had appeared from far away to be a purple dress, came closer, and Harry could see more clearly. "Ron, is that…"

Ron slid away from the window and covered his face, but Harry could still see that Ron's ears had turned red. "Shut up," he said in a muffled voice, before Harry could even say anything.

Harry grinned. "So, you think Elrond's good-looking, huh?"

Ron uncovered his face. "You agreed with me!" he said defensively.

"You were the one who pointed him out."

"You can't blame me if he's wearing a purple dress!"

"All the elves wear dresses."

"But…"

"Shh," Harry said. Somebody had just come into the museum. Harry couldn't see the person very well, but he could tell by the outfit that it was another elf.

"Is it a girl or a guy?" Ron asked, leaning forward to get a better look.

"I don't know," Harry said, shaking his head. "Wait until it turns around…"

The elf turned. It was still too far away for them to see very clearly, but Ron could see enough. "That _has_ to be a girl," he said. "No elf guy would wear a dress like _that_."

Harry nodded his agreement, trying to get a better look, but the elf sat down in a chair and had her face covered by a book.

"I don't think I've ever seen her before," Ron said. "Most of the elves either have black hair or blond hair. Arwen's hair is kind of brownish, but it's darker than that, don't you think?"

"Why don't you go down there and talk to her?"

Ron's ears again turned red. "Are you loony? She'd think I was mental."

"She'd probably think we were more mental if she found out we were sitting at the top of these stairs staring at her without bothering to talk to her."

"But she won't find out we're looking at her."

"What if she sees us?"

"Unless she has some sudden impulse to look up the stairs she shouldn't ever know we're here."

"Oh, come on, Ron. Talk to her."

"Make me."

"I will."

"How?"

"I'll tell Hermione what you said about Elrond."

"I'll just tell her you said it, too."

"I'll tell her I didn't."

"I'll tell her you did."

"Who do you think she'll believe?"

Ron was about to argue back but realized Harry had won. "Fine," he mumbled, "I'll go say hello to her."

"I'll stay up here."

Harry grinned as Ron walked down the stairs. The elf was facing the other way and apparently didn't notice he was coming. Ron slowly and silently walked up to her. He glanced back at Harry, who gave him a thumbs-up. Ron rolled his eyes and turned back toward her. He cleared his throat. "Erm…Hello."

The elf lowered her book and stood up, turning to face him.

Ron staggered back, his jaw going slack.

"Yes, Ron?" Hermione asked, frowning at him.

"I…I…"

Ron turned pink, then red, then almost purple. Harry ran down the stairs to try and save him. "Hey, Hermione," he said, pushing Ron out of the way. "You look…"

Harry stopped and blinked a few times as he looked at her more closely. She looked even more different than she had at the Yule Ball the year before. Harry had been very surprised at her appearance then; if anything, he was ten times as surprised now.

Hermione looked from the speechless Harry to the gawking Ron. "Well?" she asked, folding her arms as she set the book she was looking at back down on the chair. "What do you want?"

"Nice…nice dress," Harry said.

"Thank you," Hermione said with a small smile. "Arwen let me borrow it. I was worried it would be a bit…well, you know…it's just not really my style. But you like it?"

Both Harry and Ron nodded.

"That's good. I was afraid you would…oh, I don't know, make fun of me, or something."

"No," Ron said, still a little breathlessly. "No, you look great, Hermione, really."

"Your hair," Harry said. "It's…different."

"You just noticed?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"Well…no…I mean…er…what I meant to say is…did Arwen do your hair, too?"

"Yes, she did. I love the way it turned out. What do you two think?"

"Great," Ron said, also noticing the design for the first time. "Lovely."

"I love it here," Hermione said, beaming at the museum around her. "It's so beautiful in Rivendell. I've never imagined a place like this even in my wildest dreams. It's…perfect. So perfect. I wish we never had to leave."

"Yeah, it's nice," Harry said.

"So what was it you wanted to say?" Hermione asked Ron.

"I…wanted to say…well…I wanted to say…"

He looked at Harry for support. Harry glared back at him.

"Why _did_ you approach me?" Hermione asked.

"Well…I…" Ron's face, which had slowly gone down to a pinkish color, was turning beet red again. "I thought you were an elf."

Hermione was taken aback. "You…you thought I was…"

"An elf," Harry said, nodding. "We were on the stairs, and it was really hard to see, and…well…you do look like one in that outfit," he finished sheepishly.

Hermione suddenly grinned. "I don't believe it," she said to the floor. "My two best friends thought I was an elf."

Harry and Ron glanced to one another. Hermione's mood changed completely. "I'll see you two later," she said cheerily. "I'm going to go and find Arwen again."

She grinned all the way out the door of the museum.

"I feel like an idiot," Ron said, taking the book Hermione had been looking at off the chair and sitting down.

"She's happy," Harry said, taking the book from Ron and opening it. "I think we made her day. She took everything as a compliment."

Harry opened the cover of the book and stared at it. "This is in that weird elf language," he said.

Ron peered at it. "Yeah, it is. I wonder what Hermione was doing looking at it for so long?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't think she would have been able to learn the language so quickly. Hermione's fast, but she isn't _that_ fast."

"Maybe she knew we were up the stairs," Ron said suddenly. "Maybe she grabbed the book and covered her face so that I would come down and talk to her and make an idiot of myself…"

"She didn't see us, and even if she did, she would never expect you to come down and talk to her," Harry said. He flipped through a few more pages of the book. "There's pictures in here. That must be what she was looking at."

"Oh. I guess that makes sense," Ron said. After a short pause, in which Harry set the book down on a table, Ron spoke again. "I think she's going a little over the top, don't you?"

"Huh?"

"She's getting…weird," Ron said. "I mean, that dress was, like…not Hermione, you know?"

"She admitted she thought it was…different," Harry said.

"But she wore it. And she walked around in it."

"So what if she's wearing something a little…odd," Harry said. "She can wear whatever she wants."

"I know, but…but it's still strange, you know? I mean, this is _Hermione_ we're talking about. The last time she wore something even remotely different from what she usually wears was the dance last year, when she liked that idiot Krum. And even _that_ wasn't as…_different_ as this dress."

"Well, I don't really care," Harry said. "I thought it looked…er…nice…on her. I mean, you have to agree with that."

Ron's ears started to turn a little red again. "Yeah…I guess." He looked around quickly to try and change the subject. "Um…so…I think maybe I should go, you know? I mean, I told Neville I would go and see him before dinner tonight. He said he wanted to show me something."

"Okay," Harry said, not recalling any time recently when Ron had spoken to Neville. "I wanted to see Dumbledore, anyway."

"See you at dinner."


	18. Chapter 18: Ownership

Author's Note: Okay…it's summer, and I just got a new computer. I've been _awful_ about posting lately (yeah, for over a year) and I can't make any promises, but I will try my best to update regularly until the end of August…

Chapter 18

Ownership

"Zendar is looking for you."

The White Woman was a little startled. "He is?"

"Yes."

"Oh…all right. Where is he?"

"He is waiting for you in the place where you first woke up. Do you know where that is?"

"Yes, I think so."

Nurza was surprised. Even he had gotten lost in the camp on occasion. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm pretty sure. Thank you for telling me."

The White Woman got up and left the tent.

Nurza turned to the white man. "Are you feeling better?"

"Much better," he said, smiling weakly. "Thank you for saving my life."

Nurza smiled back. "Your friend has brought good luck to the camp," he said. "Women are good luck. We have just received news from Rohan; they will not ally themselves with us, but they will not attack us, and appreciate our assistance in protecting their land."

"That's good."

"What is your name, white man?"

"I am Remus Lupin. You can call me Lupin."

"All right…Loo-peen. So…you do not come from Rohan, do you?"

"No, myself and Tonks come from farther west."

"Ah, west. We know little of that area. We are from far to the east-south."

Lupin looked relieved. Nurza wondered why. "Tonks told me that this is not your native language," Lupin said, deciding to take the subject in a different direction.

"Most Haradrim do not speak Westron. I learned because I am Spirit Man, and I must learn the different tongues of the Children of the Sun King. Zendar, leader of all Haradrim, knows a little bit of Westron also, and a few of the other men, who grew up in Northern Harad, know some. Zendar is trying to improve so that he may speak with more of the people here. I think your friend will help him."

"What is it that Zendar wants to see Tonks about, anyway?"

Nurza smiled. "He likes her very much."

Lupin did not smile. "Really," he said, a little nervously. "What…what do you mean, exactly?"

"He will not let any of the other men near her," Nurza said. "He said that nobody can touch her except him."

Lupin hesitated. He wasn't sure whether to find this a good thing or a bad thing. _Except him…_

Nurza frowned inwardly. _He does not look happy about this. Could it be__…_

"Well…Zendar, he…he wants the White Woman for himself, you know," Nurza further explained.

Lupin paled. "He…does."

Nurza nodded. "Is there a problem?"

"Yes," Lupin said quickly. "Yes, there is a problem…"

Tonks was hopelessly lost; she was quite sure now that she was going the wrong way. There seemed to be hundreds of men all around her, but whenever she came near them, they all ran away, as though they were afraid to get too close to her. This only added to Tonks's nervousness; she determined she should go back, and as she was heading in the general direction she believed she had come from, she felt somebody tap her shoulder. She spun around to meet the fearsome appearance of Zendar. "Hello, White Woman," he said, grinning. "I find you. You not lost."

Tonks hesitated. "Er…hello."

"You call me my name. My name is Zendar."

"Hello, Zendar."

"Good, White Woman. You very good. You come with me now. Night before you see friend. Today me, yes?"

Tonks frowned. Zendar started pulling her along by the arm. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"You woman who asks much. No more asking."

Tonks started to get very nervous. "I don't understand," she said, looking around at the tents surrounding her. "What do you want with me?"

"No more asking," Zendar repeated, leading her along a little faster.

Finally they reached Zendar's large tent. Zendar quickly conversed in Haradrim with somebody nearby. Tonks shot him a questioning look. "I tell him nobody go in," he said in explanation.

"Wait a second," Tonks said, her heartbeat increasing. "Hold on. Tell me what…"

"Nothing to tell!" Zendar said, looking a little angry.

Tonks immediately shut her mouth. The last thing she wanted to do was get the Haradrim leader mad.

Zendar's expression softened. "Go in, White Woman."

Tonks stepped into the tent, with Zendar following. "Sit down and wait," Zendar said.

"Wait for what?"

"No speaking from you!"

Tonks wanted to get out. She wanted Lupin to get better so they could leave the Haradrim. Now that their quest to find the wizard had failed, and Sirius was dead, she saw no reason to stay; she wanted to go back home.

Just when she was about to say something to Zendar, the tent flap opened. Tonks turned around. Zendar looked enraged that somebody had interrupted them, but his anger turned to surprise when he saw the big man in the entrance.

Zendar stood up and walked over to the man, and they started to talk in Haradrim. Tonks's heartbeat increased even more. She hoped that whatever it was this man had to say was important enough to get Zendar away.

Tonks watched their expressions. Nurza said something that made Zendar angry. Zendar said something back, which made Nurza really angry. He shouted something that frightened Zendar, and the leader bowed his head guiltily and said what was obviously an apology. Nurza calmed down and said something else, which made Zendar look surprised and crestfallen. Finally Nurza left.

Zendar faced Tonks. "Why you not tell me?" he asked, sounding angry and confused.

Tonks became afraid. "Tell you what?"

"Do not look to me like this, stupid woman!"

Tonks actually cowered before the frightening man. "I'm sorry," Tonks said. She didn't know what she was sorry for, but she didn't know what else to say.

She was surprised to feel a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It all right," Zendar said, heaving a sigh. "You, stupid woman, not know better to tell me. You go now."

Tonks looked up. "G…go?"

"Nurza waiting in out of tent. He take you to new tent. You go now."

Tonks stood up. "All right." She started to walk away, but looked back at Zendar one last time before she exited the tent. He looked very upset about whatever it was Tonks had done. She felt sorry for him, despite her relief at leaving.

---------------------------

Éowyn sat on her bed, brushing her hair, as she glanced down at the dog lying asleep below her. The dog hadn't awoken since she first met it, and she was worried it was sicker than Théodred thought.

Théodred spent a long time arguing about the dog with Éomer, who did not want it let in the palace for fear it might be diseased. Théodred finally won the argument when King Théoden himself, actually feeling well enough to go outside for a short walk, overheard them and told them it would be fine for Théodred to bring it in the palace.

Théodred took care of the dog in his room for two days before urgent news forced him to yet again leave Edoras. Théodred wanted Éowyn to take care of it, but Éomer was afraid it would attack her until Théodred proved it had been unconscious for days. When Éomer was finally convinced the dog was harmless, he agreed to give Éowyn ownership of it until either Théodred returned or until the dog woke up and was well.

So now the strange dog was in Éowyn's room. She set her brush down and watched it slowly breathing. She thought it was a very beautiful dog, even though Éomer said it was repulsive. She figured that was just because of all the bandages and such Théodred had put on it.

"When you get better, dog, I am going to give you a bath," Éowyn said, kneeling next to it.

To her astonishment, it opened its eyes.

The dog stared at her, and she stared back at it, just as she had done the time she had first seen it. She was again captivated by its eyes, but finally drew herself away from them and looked at the floor. "Glad you are awake," she said.

The dog, being a dog, did not reply.

Éowyn looked at it again, trying not to stare too much at its eyes, as though she thought the dog would find it offensive. "I am Éowyn. I am going to take care of you. You will be spending a little while with me until you get better."

Sirius was dumbfounded. He couldn't remember the brief time he was conscious when Théodred showed him to Éowyn. He felt fully awake, and convinced himself immediately that he was not dreaming, even though this did seem very odd. _She, of all people, finds me? But I was far away from __Edoras__…maybe some of their people came over and found me, and brought me back…no, soldiers wouldn't bother bringing a dog all the way to __Edoras__. Maybe she was out there and she saw me and thought I needed help because I was hurt. But still, why would she drag me all the way back here with her? Could she…could she have recognized me? No, of course not, what am I thinking? People can't recognize __Animagi__ unless they know what they're looking for. She only met me once, too. Probably doesn't even remember me…_

"Éomer would not like it to know that you are awake, so I will not tell him, all right?"

_Why is she talking to a dog?_

"So…I suppose I should name you. I do not want to just have to call you 'dog' all the time."

_Why call me anything at all? __Unless she's planning to keep me…_

"Hmm…let me think…"

Sirius once again found her staring into his black eyes. When she finally snapped out of it, she looked mystified. "You know," she said in an odd voice, "I think I know what I should name you." Unexpectedly, she smiled a dazzling smile that made Sirius, even as a dog, catch his breath. "There was this strange man who came to Rohan a few days ago. His name was Sirius Black. I rescued him from Wormtongue…"

_Oh my God…_

"For some reason your eyes remind me of his. Éomer thinks that he and his friends are dead, because their horses returned to our stables. I think I would have liked to know them better…or what they were doing. They went about with a purpose. I know they had some strange thing they were trying to accomplish by meeting Saruman…anyone who goes to a wizard would certainly have a reason. I wish I had known more about it, so I might have helped them more. They did not seem to know very much about this area. Maybe if Théodred had been here when they came, he could have gone with them, and they would not have died…"

Éowyn finally paused, smiling again. "Anyway, I am going to name you after the man I met. What do you think of that, Sirius?"

Sirius was certain he had never heard anything so ridiculously ironically fitting in his entire life.


	19. Chapter 19: Concerns

Chapter 19

Concerns

Hermione strolled down a walkway, taking in the beautiful view of Rivendell for what must have been the hundredth time. Every time amazed her nearly as much as the first.

As she was walking, she noticed the elves opening the gates. That morning she had seen them do just this thing, and, looking down from a balcony, she had watched a man on horseback enter Rivendell. He had long brown hair and a beard, and he wore very fancy clothes. The way he rode told her immediately that he was a man of importance, and she wondered if he was from the land of Gondor that Strider so often mentioned in passing. All she knew of Gondor was that it was a great land of Men, and if this was a great man, she figured he would be from there.

Hermione did not inquire about the man and for the rest of the day did not see him. Now, they were opening the gates again, and she was excited to see what kind of person it would be this time; she had heard mention of dwarves who were coming, and was interested in seeing what a dwarf would look like.

Hermione waited anxiously. She was right next to the gate, and no matter how the person came through she would probably have a good view of him or her.

When a white horse slowly went through the gateway and Hermione saw the rider on its back, she literally held her breath.

Ron was drawing in the dirt with a stick when Harry nudged him and pointed. Ron shielded his eyes from the sun and looked to where Harry was pointing. An elf on horseback had entered Rivendell, and he was staring down at a woman standing near him. "Who's the elf?"

"I don't know. What's Hermione doing?"

"Hermione? That's her?"

"Pretty sure."

Ron watched, now with a frown on his face, as the elf slowly started trotting forward again. Finally he was at a steady pace, and he glanced back at Hermione before continuing toward where Harry and Ron were. They immediately moved, but remained close enough for Ron to get a good look at the elf. "I'm pretty sure it's a guy," Harry said.

"Yeah," Ron said. He scowled. "And I can see why Hermione was looking at him."

"Look at the way he rides."

"I know. It's like he thinks he's a god or something. Prancy git."

"I guess a lot of the elves ride like that."

"No, he's worse. I hope Hermione doesn't start to like him too much."

"He's an elf, and probably an important one. I don't think he would want to talk to Hermione."

"Still, I don't want Hermione looking at him all the time."

"Who's to say he's even staying here? He might just be a messenger."

"I doubt it…"

Not wanting to be dragged into a long conversation about Hermione's possible liking for the elf, Harry decided to change the subject. "Well, let's go and check up with Sam to see if Frodo's making any progress."

"We've done that, what, fifty times?"

"He might have woken up. You never know."

"I guess so…"

* * *

"What exactly have you been doing over there?"

"Assisting Saruman, my Lord…"

"How?"

"Well, I…I help him out…with things…"

"Are you trying to hide something from me?"

"Of course not, my Lord!"

Wormtail, fearing Voldemort might read his mind, quickly changed the subject. "What have you been doing with Sauron?"

"Nothing immensely important just yet…and if I had done something important, you would not need to ask, because I would tell you about it if I thought you should know. At any rate, make sure Saruman is sending scouts to search for Potter and Dumbledore…I want to know how long it will be before they reach Mordor, and if there is any way I can help speed up the process."

"Saruman has already sent scouts, my Lord, and they have returned with no news…"

"Then send more!"

"Y-yes, my Lord…"

"And make certain your obsession with finding your old friends does not take precedence over finding Potter and Dumbledore. If I think you are disobeying me in this matter, or any other matter, I will send Lucius to Isengard, and he will watch you and report on you for me."

_Since when did he start calling Malfoy by his first name?_ "I would never disobey you, Lord…"

"I do not wish to waste any more time speaking with you. Goodbye."

The connection broke, and Wormtail set down the _palantir_. He walked into Saruman's study, where the wizard was reading an old book. He glanced up at Wormtail. "All finished?"

"The Dark Lord is angry that your scouts have not found Dumbledore and Potter," Wormtail said quietly.

"Well, he'll have to wait," Saruman said with a smile. "We'll find them eventually, and ensure they get to him, as ordered…don't worry, Wormtail. I wouldn't lie to you."

"I know you wouldn't…I'm just…well…afraid…"

"Afraid of what?"

"The Dark Lord does not seem to be pleased with my presence here. He may order me to go to Mordor…"

"In which case I would intervene on your behalf, and declare to Sauron that it is imperative that you remain here with me."

"You…you would do that for me?"

"Of course. You are an asset here. I don't know what I would do without you."

Wormtail smiled. "You…you really…you really are a great and wise and powerful wizard, Saruman, you…"

Saruman shook his head. "Come now, I am not deserving of such descriptions. You are no less great."

"Thank you…"

"Why don't you go check up on the orcs for me? Ask Ghâshlug how the breeding is going in Pit #11…"

"Okay."

The moment Wormtail left, Saruman rolled his eyes and continued reading.

* * *

"Er…hello, Tonks."

"I thought this was my tent."

"Well…um…yes, it is…"

"They didn't give you one?"

"Well…er…it's kind of…"

"Moony, what's going on?"

"Well…you see…I…er…had to tell them something, you know…"

"Tell who what?"

"Zendar wanted to…well…he was very interested in you…"

"I'd noticed. I was just about ready to tell him off earlier. He was acting very strange…"

"And anyway…er…Nurza said…"

"Nurza? You mean that big huge guy?"

"Yes, him."

"He speaks…what do they call English?"

"He speaks Westron, yes, and…well…he said Zendar was pretty much decided that he would…er…claim you, so to speak…"

"_Claim_ me? What kind of backwards culture do these people have?"

"I'm really quite impressed with their culture, actually, they're certainly more civilized than they appear…but I believe Zendar was trying to claim you because he is a powerful man, and is probably quite used to getting whatever he wants…"

"Did you tell Nurza that I didn't want to be 'claimed'?"

"Well…Nurza seemed to want Zendar to have you, and…I…well…I had to say _something_ convincing, so I said…well…I said that you were married, you see. Off-limits."

"Really?"

"Yes…"

"Thank you! Oh, for a second I was really worried…why do you look like that? What's wrong?"

"Well…Nurza started asking too many questions and…er…he ended up under the impression that…well…that _I_ was your husband."

Tonks raised her eyebrows.

"I…I'm really sorry…That's what he thought, and it was…I wasn't in a good position to correct him about it…he did apologize about Zendar, and said that he would make sure Zendar never bothered you again…"

"But we're married, then."

"Er…yes. I'm sorry, really…"

Tonks considered this for a moment. "So?" she finally said.

"So…_what_?"

"Exactly. So what? I don't care. What difference does it make?"

"I…I guess it doesn't matter all that much…"

"We only have to stay here until you get better, anyway, and then we can get going. I don't like this place and I don't like these people, no matter how interesting you think they are."

"I would like to get out of here as well…I like Nurza well enough, but Zendar seems too dangerous."

"Once you're better we go. It's settled, then."

"Tonks, where will we go?"

Tonks paused. "We go back."

"Back?"

"Back home."

Lupin sighed. "Home," he repeated.

"Yes." Tonks smiled. "I'll bet the Ministry is in a total uproar right now."

"But what about Dumbledore? He wanted us to find a wizard."

"We found a wizard. Wormtail. Now we should leave."

"But there's another thing—Wormtail. We can't just leave him here for the people of this world to deal with. They have no idea what he's capable of."

"Dumbledore will find him."

"Dumbledore is looking for Voldemort, not Wormtail. And since we didn't encounter Voldemort on our trip to Orhanc, I imagine he was somewhere else entirely."

"But we can't go after Wormtail. He has that powerful wizard Saruman with him."

"I'm not leaving here until he's dead."

Tonks was a bit frightened by the look in Lupin's eyes. "Moony, you really shouldn't be thinking like that. We can do more good back home than we can here…"

"I'm not running back home like a coward. You're wrong; there's nothing I can do _there_. Here I can make a difference, so it's here that I'll stay."

_He sounds just like Sirius_, Tonks thought sadly. "Okay, we'll think of a plan to get rid of Wormtail, but we don't need to worry about that right now. The main concern is you getting better. And don't you dare try to convince me you're better if you're not, because I'll be able to tell. I don't care how long it takes, even if it's weeks or months."

"I wouldn't lie to you."

"Good. Now we've got things figured out…I feel better about all this."

Lupin was not so optimistic. _How long will it take for me to heal? There may not be enough time to get back before the next full moon…_


	20. Chapter 20: The Fate of the Ring

A/N: This chapter is the Council of Elrond. I am not going to bore you by describing in great detail everything that happened; I will only very briefly summarize things that can be found in the FOTR book (not necessarily the movie). If you've read FOTR and already know everything important about the Council, feel free to skim this section, but there are several hints about the WTOH plot in it (especially in Elrond's reactions). And, since I'm bothering to write a note and everything, I would just like to give a very special thanks to Moony of coolmarauders. I always look forward to reading your reviews!

On with the story….

Chapter 20

The Fate of the Ring

There were nineteen chairs, all arranged in a circle. Elrond's chair was more like a throne as he presided over the people now assembled. To his left sat two wise elves, also from Rivendell; continuing clockwise was a man from Gondor; three elves from Mirkwood; Strider; Gandalf; Harry, Dumbledore, and the others not from Middle-earth; Frodo; three dwarves; and finally, Bilbo Baggins.

"This council has begun," Elrond officially announced, when he believed the time to be right. "Many of you have journeyed from very far to bring news. I first wish to hear what brings the dwarves to Rivendell."

A dwarf with a long grey beard stood up. He introduced himself as Glóin, and told a disturbing story that involved the disappearance of some dwarves in a place called Moria, and the appearance of the Dark Lord Sauron. After this tale, Elrond asked Glóin to sit and rose himself.

"Sauron is searching for the One Ring," Elrond said. "In order for you all to understand the present situation, we must first look to the past, to a time that only the elves now remember…"

Elrond told a long narrative about the creation of the ring, and about Isildur, the man who took it from Sauron and would not destroy it. Isildur was killed, the ring lost, and the kings of men grew corrupt, until finally the lately incompetent stewards had to take over. Elrond finished by saying that his knowledge of the ring ended with Isildur's death, but that others would continue the tale.

Harry had intended to pay close attention to everything being said at the council, but became quite confused with Elrond's tale about Isildur; nevertheless, he continued to listen attentively (unlike Ron, who was twiddling his thumbs and occasionally staring up at the sky during Elrond's entire narrative). Dumbledore, however, followed along well, taking mental notes on things he wanted further information about, which he hoped to get from Gandalf later.

After Elrond the man from Gondor stood, introducing himself as Boromir. He apparently had been somewhat insulted by Elrond's descriptions of his land, and went into a long tale about its valor. Ron was starting to become annoyed that the matter of the journey to Mordor had not yet been addressed; he thought the entire purpose of the council was to figure out a way to get to Mordor and destroy the ring, while he rescued Ginny.

Boromir continued by saying he had had a dream, and related a strange riddle about a broken sword. Hermione thought this prophetic dream very interesting, and wondered if Boromir was some sort of Seer, or if others in Middle-earth could predict the future in such a way.

Then Strider stood. "The Sword that was Broken is here," he said.

"Who are you, and what have you to do with Gondor?" Boromir asked.

"That is Aragorn son of Arathorn," Elrond said. "He is a direct descendant of Isildur, and heir to the throne of Gondor."

Ron's jaw dropped, and everyone who had been traveling with Strider was astounded. Hermione wondered if it was some sort of trick or joke.

"The throne of Gondor?" Boromir repeated.

"This is not something to be discussed now," Elrond said. "You two, sit down…Frodo, bring forth the ring."

Frodo stood up and walked up to a pedestal in the center of the circle. He reached into his pocket, pulled out the ring, and rather reluctantly set it down.

Some people leaned forward in their chairs, to get a better look. Others leaned back.

"How do we know this is Isildur's Bane, if it disappeared so long ago?" Boromir asked.

To answer this, Elrond turned to Bilbo. "Tell them of your tale…"

And so he did. Neville was becoming drowsy as Bilbo spoke of riddles and a strange creature called Gollum. The wizard Gandalf picked up the story when Bilbo ended it, talking all about how he and Aragorn had searched for Gollum, and how he went to Minas Tirith to find out more about the ring. "I searched long in the archives of the White City," Gandalf said, "until at last I found an ancient scroll, nearly untouched by time…it did not say who had written it, and the penmanship and grammar were very poor, but upon reading it, I discovered that it could have been written by none other than Isildur himse…"

"That is not possible."

Gandalf turned to Elrond, who had interrupted him. "Why?"

"There are no records from that time," Elrond said. "Perhaps it was false."

"It was not false," Gandalf said, frowning. "It described the ring…"

"Was that all it described?"

"Yes, it was very short."

Elrond was silent for a moment. "Well…I had no knowledge of this scroll. Forgive me…carry on, Gandalf."

Gandalf continued with this story about the ring. Harry was still finding it hard to believe that they had been traveling with Frodo for so long and he had carried such a powerful weapon with him that entire time.

When Gandalf's tale about Gollum ended in Mirkwood, an elf, Legolas of that land, rose, and started speaking about how Gollum had escaped from their prison. Ron recognized the elf as the one he had seen riding into the city earlier, and did not like the way Hermione was staring at him throughout his entire report.

When Legolas was finished, an elf of Rivendell asked a question about Saruman, and Gandalf took up another story about how he had been betrayed by the great wizard. This was terrible news for everyone. There did not seem to be many other powerful wizards in Middle-earth.

Gandalf's story was one of the longest, and he described in great (and probably unnecessary) detail exactly how he had escaped from Saruman and why he could not meet Frodo and the other hobbits in Bree.

Finally the matter of the ring was brought up. The wise argued with the wise; the elves believed the ring should be destroyed in Mordor, but some of the other Council members, headed by Boromir of Gondor, said that it should be hidden away in a safe place like Gondor, to be used if the need was great.

It was finally decided that the ring did need to be destroyed (mostly because of Elrond's support of this course of action). Bilbo brought up the fact that in order to do this, somebody actually needed to go to Mordor and throw it into the volcano.

There was a great argument. A dwarf offended some elves, and everyone started yelling at one another; through all this, the ring was still sitting on the pedestal, unchanged. Frodo became annoyed. It looked like nothing would be decided.

"Why don't you take it?" a voice next to him said.

Frodo turned. It was Neville.

"I think you should take it to Mordor," Neville said.

Frodo looked around. "You think _I_ should take it, over these wise elves and men and dwarves?"

Neville glanced around at all the arguing people, then turned back to Frodo. His look alone showed that he questioned how wise these people were.

Frodo looked back at the ring. It had not ever occurred to him to go any farther than Rivendell, but now that Neville had brought it up, why not go all the way to Mordor with it? Why should he give it up now? It was _his_…

"I will take it!" Frodo cried at the top of his voice.

Gradually everyone quieted down and looked at him.

"I will take it," Frodo repeated, "but…I do not know the way to Mordor."

"So be it," Elrond said. "Frodo will take the ring."

"You cannot presume he go alone," Legolas of Mirkwood said, frowning slightly.

Elrond turned and looked at Dumbledore. "There is one other matter we have not yet discussed here. Many of you come from lands far away, but none as far as those still seated now. There is a threat to us that has not yet been spoken of, and Dumbledore shall inform you of it."

Everyone returned to their seats. Dumbledore rose and said, quite plainly, that he was from another world.

"How is that possible?" one of Rivendell's representatives asked. He looked nervous, as though this news was frightening rather than simply strange.

"I am not certain," Dumbledore replied. "Some sort of magic brought us here…we passed through a portal to come into this world. The portal was located in a place called the Chamber of Secrets, a place created a very long time ago by a man called Salazar Slytherin. We believe he may have come to this world before us."

There was a pause.

"There was never any such man," Elrond said firmly.

"Are you certain?"

"If he ever did exist, he was not important, or I would have known of him. I have lived many thousands of years, and I have never heard of him."

Dumbledore frowned. "Well, we came through a white tree to get here, and…"

"A white tree?" Boromir interrupted.

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "Have you heard of one?"

"It is the symbol of Gondor!" Boromir exclaimed.

"There is no connection," Elrond said quickly.

"You are dismissing it?" Gandalf said, wondering why Elrond was so sure of himself.

"The White Tree of Gondor has nothing to do with a portal to another world," Elrond said. "I have seen it when it was thriving. There is no magic of that type."

"The white tree we came through was in a forest," Harry said, wishing to make a contribution and hopefully clarify things. "It was to the west of here…"

"No connection," Elrond said, shaking his head. "The seedlings were lost long ago. If this portal was created, perhaps it was done in the image of the tree, but the white trees have existed much longer than your portal."

Dumbledore decided the wise elf obviously knew more about the subject and continued telling his story about the other world. He kept the details vague, but spoke much about Voldemort and the evil he had spread there. His tale was not long; he ended it by warning everyone to beware the servants of Voldemort, and recognize that they are the enemy. He never mentioned Ginny.

Surprisingly, it was Gandalf who did this. "Dumbledore has told me that a member of his company was captured by the enemy," he said. "She is believed to be in Mordor. Dumbledore and his companions will accompany Frodo to destroy the ring."

"And so the matter of who else will go with him has finally been arrived at," Elrond said. "Who is willing to risk the journey?"

There was a brief silence.

"I," Aragorn said, rising from his seat.

"And I shall go as well," Boromir said, very shortly afterward, as though challenging Aragorn. Harry was a bit worried by this; Boromir's ideas about the ring had disturbed Elrond and Gandalf, who appeared to be the wisest of the group.

"I will journey with you," Legolas the elf said. Ron almost groaned aloud; Hermione looked excited.

"And I will give you my axe," Gimli, the dwarf who had accompanied Glóin, said. Like Boromir with Aragorn, he almost appeared to be challenging Legolas.

There was a pause.

"Then only these four with go with Frodo and those from the other world?" Elrond asked.

"I will lead them, of course," Gandalf said, frowning. He hadn't realized he would have to say 

this aloud.

"Very well," Elrond said; he had probably only been waiting for this. "You will be the F…"

"Wait!"

Sam came stumbling into the circle; he had been hiding in nearby bushes. Elrond's eyebrows raised; Gandalf, in Sam's defense, laughed. "Well now, Mr. Gamgee, you intend to come with us as well?"

"You yourself said, Mr. Gandalf, sir, that I was not to leave Mr. Frodo," Sam said. "And I won't…"

"And neither will we!"

Merry and Pippin came running forward. Neville was happy; he would've hated to leave them, although he was worried about how dangerous the journey was.

"We'll help Frodo get the ring to…that place," Pippin said.

"And we'll rescue Ginny," Merry added. Despite the assurances of friends that there was nothing he could have done, Merry still took Ginny's capture somewhat personally.

Elrond looked ready to argue these additions to the group, but Gandalf seemed happy with the idea, and the last thing Elrond wanted to do was argue with Gandalf in front of the council. "Very well," he said heavily. "You shall all be the Fellowship of the Ring."

He said this somewhat less dramatically than he had been about to before he was interrupted by Sam. Hermione wondered if he had had a whole speech prepared, which he now discarded because of the comic entrances of the unwelcome hobbits.

"Rest in my halls for a few nights longer," Elrond instructed them. "You have a very long journey ahead of you, and some of you are still weary from your traveling here."

* * *

Elrond stood in his meditative position. He was very nervous; this caused him to lose focus easily. As difficult as it was, he had to put the present matters out of his mind in order to summon Galadriel.

"Why have you called upon me?" Galadriel asked.

"There are…urgent matters that needed to be discussed," Elrond said.

"Ah yes…the ring…"

"Yes, yes, the ring will be destroyed, and all that…"

"You do not make it sound very important."

"Well, compared to what else happened…"

"What?"

"You…you were right. About He Who Is Forgotten…there…there were representatives of the other world at the council."

"And He was there?"

"I…do not know. There is one who…who may be Him. It is a man who Gandalf tells me is a powerful wizard in his world…"

"That must be Him!"

"There is another, a dark wizard, who supposedly has taken residence in Mordor…"

"Mordor? _He_ would never return to Mordor! That must be His enemy…"

"Galadriel, I really wouldn't jump to…"

"This is of the utmost importance! If He has indeed returned…how did He claim to arrive?"

"A white tree in a forest to the west."

"West? The seedlings of the white tree were thought to be lost! But to be west of Rivendell…it must have been brought there with a purpose…alas, I have had enough of this speculation. I need to consult my mirror, and see if I can discover anything more definite about Him and His plans. In the meantime…watch this strange wizard's movements…"

"Well…there is a…problem…"

"What?"

"He is going with the ring."

"_What_?!"

Elrond flinched. "He is going to rescue someone who was kidnapped, taken to Mordor, a…a girl…"

"Then you must tell Gandalf."

"I cannot do that!"

"You must warn Gandalf about Him…"

"Gandalf has always trusted me. To reveal that I have lied about something so…"

"Then simply tell him you have suspicions about this wizard. You can even tell him that the suspicions are mine. But you must tell him _something_."

"All right…I will tell him that you suspect the wizard…"

"Good. Now, as I said, I must consult my mirror…and I trust that you will tell me immediately if you discover anything else."

"Of course…"

* * *

"So, what do you think is going on back at home?"

"I think…or, rather, hope…that things are proceeding very quietly."

"Do you really think things are going to be quiet, with Dumbledore and Potter gone?"

Voldemort smiled. "No, not in that sense…I was referring to the Death Eaters. Of course I do not think the Ministry of Magic or the Order of the Phoenix or the staff at Hogwarts or any sane person in the wizarding world can simply ignore that the 'greatest wizard of all time' has vanished with 'the boy who lived' and a number of school children…but I hope that the Death Eaters are doing as I instructed, which is staying very quiet. Everyone will believe they were behind the disappearances, and therefore they must keep out of sight."

"Things will really change, won't they?" Draco said with a smile. "When we march back into our world with a huge army…"

"Indeed…the entire world will be under our rule. Quite an accomplishment."

Our_ rule? Does he mean the Death Eaters…or him and me?_ "Do you know anything more about Potter? If he's come any closer, or…"

"I know as little as you do…although I am certain he is alive. I can feel it."

"I know we're trying to lure him here, but…what happens when he gets here?"

Voldemort smiled. "Now, now…don't want to spoil the surprise."

"But you could at least…"

"Do not overstep your bounds, Malfoy," Voldemort said sternly. "I am your Lord, and I will not yield to your begging."

"Of course…I apologize, Lord."

"Now I have much work to do. I will speak to you later."

Voldemort left. Draco also exited the room. His conversations with Voldemort always seemed to end with a stern warning, but their next conversation would begin with the Dark Lord in a good mood, as though he had forgiven Draco, or maybe just forgotten. Draco didn't understand it, but he couldn't complain; it was good to know nothing he said had seriously offended the Dark Lord yet.

Draco had a sudden thought to check in on Ginny, since Voldemort had already seen her today and probably wouldn't be going to her room anytime soon. He started heading toward it when he saw Ginny's door open; Lucius stepped out.

"What were you doing in there?" Draco asked without thinking.

Lucius' eyes narrowed. "That is my business, not yours."

"Does the Dark Lord know what you were doing? Because you shouldn't do anything to the prisoner without…"

"I have been a Death Eater for a very long time," Lucius snapped. "And as a matter of fact, the Dark Lord has given me permission to do whatever I want to the girl."

"Oh," Draco said, with a slightly choked voice.

Lucius walked off without another word. Draco considered going in to see Ginny, and find out what his father was up to, but he couldn't bring himself to; believing his father to be capable of hurting her was like a betrayal of his trust for him. _Father was probably just taunting her,_ Draco reassured himself. _He was probably just calling her a blood traitor, and talking about how Potter and Dumbledore would die, and…making fun of her father. Yes, that's it…Father hates Arthur Weasley. He was just going in there to annoy her about her stupid father._

Draco walked off.


	21. Chapter 21: Five Days

Chapter 21

Five Days

It was determined that the Fellowship of the Ring would rest in Rivendell for five more days before beginning their journey to Mordor. During these days, much was discussed, and new friendships were formed.

Elrond's message from Galadriel was passed on to Gandalf. Elrond kept the situation vague, merely saying that Galadriel had a "vision" that made her suspicious of Dumbledore. Gandalf took the matter very seriously—unlike Elrond, he valued Galadriel's visions very highly—and promised to keep a careful watch on Dumbledore. Despite this, Gandalf grew to like the old wizard. The two were often found strolling around Rivendell, discussing their lives or magic in their worlds…when they were not working.

Gandalf, Dumbledore and Aragorn spent many hours devising a plan to reach Mordor with maximum expediency. Although Dumbledore knew nothing of the land, his opinion was highly regarded; all issues were carefully explained to him. Dumbledore liked Gandalf, but he tended to side with Aragorn, who was more willing to take risky paths to reach their destination faster. Dumbledore hated to put Harry and his friends in danger, but he feared greatly for Ginny and the amount of power Voldemort was accumulating. He knew the fate of both worlds rested on the Fellowship, and great risks would need to be taken to stop the spreading darkness.

Some of the original company preferred to keep to themselves. Neville continued to spend most of his time with Merry and Pippin. Frodo and Sam mostly remained isolated from the others, spending much of their time with Bilbo. This was partly because the reverence Frodo was treated with as the Ringbearer was discomforting to him. Still, he was very relaxed in the elf haven, and secretly dreaded the moment he would have to leave it.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione, on the other hand, attempted mingling with those outside the original company. Hermione became better friends with Arwen, from whom she borrowed various outfits for the journey, and now, to Ron's disgust, she was talking more and more to Legolas. At first Hermione would occasionally casually approach him and ask him a question about elves, but when he actually seemed to enjoy her company, Hermione was encouraged to spend more time with him.

Another odd pair was the result of the after-council feast. Ron had been randomly seated next to Boromir, and the two actually had some very intriguing conversations. Although they weren't exactly friends, Ron considered Boromir the only Middle-earth person in the fellowship worth talking to, except perhaps Gimli, who shared his dislike for the elves (which had grown worse as Hermione's liking for them increased).

Seeing everyone else pairing off, Harry had tried to find someone to talk to other than Ron, but it was difficult. He spent some time with Frodo and Sam, but on the last night before the fellowship's epic departure, Ron was talking to Boromir, Dumbledore to Gandalf, Hermione to Legolas, and the hobbits were nowhere to be seen.

Harry wandered into the bottom floor of the House of Elrond, figuring the wise elf might know a way to get rid of his boredom. At first he thought the area was empty, but then he saw Aragorn sitting on a small wooden bench.

"Str…Aragorn?" Harry said.

Aragorn had had his head bowed; he raised it and looked curiously at Harry. "What are you doing here?"

"Just wandering around," Harry said. He frowned slightly when he realized Aragorn was holding what looked like a dagger.

"It's a piece of a broken sword," Aragorn explained, noticing where Harry's attention was. Aragorn rose and placed it back on a pedestal, with other sword fragments.

"Does it…have blood on it?" Harry asked, thinking he saw something red on the tip of Aragorn's piece.

"Boromir came in here earlier and accidentally cut himself," Aragorn said with a small smile.

Harry smiled back. For some reason, finding out the mysterious ranger Strider was actually king of the entire race of Men made him easier to talk to.

"So," Harry said, glancing around, "this study…it's like…a museum, right? Isn't that man on the wall your ancestor?"

"You were paying attention at the council, I see. Yes…that is Isildur. He stole the ring from Sauron. The sword he used to cut it from Sauron's finger is the sword sitting here now."

Harry looked from the painting to the sword; the hilt did look the same. "But that was hundreds of years ago, right?"

"Yes, a very long time…"

"But…you're directly related to him."

Aragorn nodded. Harry looked from the painting to Aragorn. "He does look sort of like you."

Aragorn smiled again. "It is not exactly a compliment. Isildur represents the failure of Man…his refusal to destroy the ring has caused the darkness we are facing now. He was corrupted by its power…" Aragorn sighed. "I wish I could have been in his place. It may sound arrogant of me, but…I believe I could have made the correct decision."

Harry was looking closely at the painting. "Who painted this?"

"Elrond."

"Elrond's a good painter."

"He certainly is. And that is the most accurate painting you will ever find…because Elrond was present when this event occurred."

Harry suddenly gasped. "The white tree…it's on Isildur's chest!"

"Interesting," Aragorn said. "I did not realize it was a symbol for Gondor that early…in fact…I had thought Isildur himself made it a symbol during his rule, after this incident. Perhaps it was a personal symbol for him before it ever became important for all of Gondor."

"What exactly is the whole myth about the white trees, anyway? I mean…it can't be a coincidence that we came through one, and it just happens to be the symbol of Gondor."

"I do not think it is a coincidence, but I do not see how it is significant. I had a talk with Dumbledore about it, when he first mentioned the tree to me…the white trees were…well…it is a fairly complicated history, but…I can try to explain it briefly. You see, the gods created trees, and…they used them to create the moon and stars…"

Harry's eyebrows were raised.

"All right, I will move on to Gondor," Aragorn said. "A tree was given to the Numenoreans, and…Sauron burned it, but Isildur stole a fruit from it, and preserved the line in Gondor. The trees represent the line of kings…and the one in Gondor withers in the absence of a king. When I take my rightful place, it is said that the tree will blossom."

"But what about the portal? Is there one in Gondor…or was there, before the tree started dying?"

"I do not know. The trees were never known to contain any type of portal…and it was believed that the white tree has been in Gondor ever since Isildur planted it there. It surprises me that there is one in a forest in the west…perhaps the one in Gondor did have portal qualities…perhaps the gods…"

"You are speaking of the trees?" a voice said.

Harry and Aragorn turned. Elrond was approaching them.

"He can answer your questions," Aragorn said. "I must be off anyway…"

"Where must you be off so, at so late an hour?" Elrond asked, looking suspicious.

Aragorn straightened and seemed a little nervous. "I…I wanted to talk to Gandalf," he explained quickly. "I told him I would speak to him, about…the Moria situation…he's still arguing about it…"

"He is right upstairs, actually," Elrond said, with an almost smug look. "You can see him now."

Aragorn looked slightly disappointed as he went up the stairs. Harry tried to hide a smile as he realized Aragorn had probably intended to see Arwen instead.

Elrond now turned to Harry. "You seem very interested in the history of this world."

"I am…and…I find it amazing that there are people…like you…who can actually remember these ancient events."

"The white tree," Elrond said, looking at the painting of Isildur. "He was very pleased to have it. He loved that tree…made it a symbol for his people…" Elrond paused and looked back at Harry. "I saw it. I watched it grow. I've even touched it. It was not a portal. There was nothing magical about it, other than its radiance…a blessing of the gods."

"Then what about the tree we came in through?" Harry asked.

"Did it exist as a white tree in your world also?"

"Well…yes…"

"Then I imagine it must be from your world, not ours."

"But my world doesn't have magical white trees, and yours…"

"Perhaps it is a creation of both worlds, but…it is not like the white tree of Gondor."

"Okay," Harry said, annoyed that Elrond seemed so snappy. He wondered if it had something to do with Aragorn and Arwen.

"You are a bright boy," Elrond said. "Dumbledore speaks very highly of you…and Dumbledore is a brilliant man. I wish you well on your journey."

Elrond left. Harry looked around the museum, stopping to stare at the painting one more time, before leaving himself.

* * *

Nothing particularly exciting happened to any of the others during this period. Lupin continued to heal, and became more friendly with Nurza, who would give him updates on the attacks against Uruk-Hai groups across Rohan; although the main camp never moved, troops were often sent out in different directions, returning once their missions were complete.

Throughout these days Zendar showed no interest in speaking to the two guests. Tonks, who was also becoming more familiar with Nurza, asked him why Zendar didn't seem to care about 

her and Lupin anymore; Nurza explained rather reluctantly that Zendar was insulted by what he considered to be trickery on Tonks' part, even though Nurza expressed that he himself respected she didn't understand Zendar's intentions. Tonks did not like Zendar's stubbornness, but started to feel bad for what she realized was a misunderstanding caused by her ignorance. She decided that, as soon as there was a break in the orc attacks and Zendar was less busy, she would try speaking to him.

Sirius, like Lupin, was continuing to heal, under Éowyn's care. He finally got used to her calling him "Sirius," and began to like her more and more. He wished circumstances could be different; he knew they could easily be friends if he could only speak to her. But he couldn't risk revealing his power, and he had to find his friends. They were likely separated; Sirius had no idea if Lupin could recover without care, and he was certain Tonks wouldn't survive very long in Middle-earth by herself. Both probably thought he was dead. As much as he liked being taken care of by Éowyn in Edoras, he knew the longer he spent in comfort the more danger his friends could be in. Sirius decided that, as soon as he had the chance, he would attempt an escape.


	22. Chapter 22: Setting Out

A/N: Feel free to completely ignore this comment and carry on with the story! (And certainly don't read it if you haven't finished HP7 yet and still don't know what happens!)

Sorry it took so long for me to post this. I was highly anticipating _Hallows_ and hoping it might give me inspiration. Sadly, it didn't. The only amusingly related bit was the LOTR-esque sequence with the locket Horcrux, which didn't really give me new ideas. Unfortunately, my greatest hope for DH was that Draco Malfoy would emerge as a strong character, but all of my brilliant predictions for his role in the book were proven utterly wrong as he turned out an even bigger loser in this book than all the others. I was really hoping my story would be believable for the HP characters (I change several LOTR ones to fit the plot), but it seems that especially in Draco's case I am straying very far from what Rowling believed him to be capable of. I'm warning you now—Draco's going to do extraordinary things (good and evil), and I beg you not to flame me and say he's OOC because he isn't acting like a terrified newborn kitten all the time. (He's not in this chapter, but he'll be in the next one, Chapter 23). Draco's unimportant role wasn't the only thing I hated about DH, but I'm not going to rant. On with the story!

Chapter 22

Setting Out

The Fellowship of the Ring set out from Rivendell on the morning of December 31. The elves gathered to watch them depart; Hermione hugged Arwen, upset she had to leave her new friend, although she was certain that she was not as upset as Aragorn.

Ron had enjoyed the rest and comfort he had received in Rivendell, but felt better leaving the place, knowing each step he now took brought him a step closer to Ginny. He thought about her constantly, but still spoke about her to no one, not even Harry, until that night.

The Fellowship had progressed considerably in a days' walk; when they made camp that night, almost everyone was tired, especially those who had grown unaccustomed to travel after so long a respite in Rivendell. Ron, however, awoke because of nightmares involving Ginny; he wasn't the only one.

Harry was sitting off by himself, away from his sleeping mat. Ron, disturbed by his dreams and concerned about Harry, walked over and sat next to him. "You all right, mate?" he asked.

Harry hesitated; finally, he said, "I'm all right…it's just…I saw her."

"Saw who?"

"Ginny," Harry whispered.

There was a short pause. "In a dream, you mean?" Ron asked.

"No, in a vision, like the ones Voldemort's sent me before. I…I guess he's going to keep sending them to me every now and then, to prove that she's still alive."

"Is she…" Ron paused, swallowing, then asked, "Did he hurt her?"

Harry slowly nodded.

Ron clenched his fists, then grabbed a rock and hurled it as hard as he could into the darkness away from the camp. There was a short pause as they waited for the dull thud of the rock finally striking the ground a surprising distance away.

"We're going to Mordor," Harry said reassuringly. "We're going to save her."

Ron shook his head. "We're not moving fast enough. By the time we get there…"

"Voldemort can't kill her."

"I'm not worried about that."

"Ron, she's a strong person. And she knows we're going to rescue her, whatever it takes. We went down into the Chamber of Secrets and rescued her from Voldemort himself; she'll be waiting for us, and that'll help keep her strong. She'll be fine."

Ron said nothing, but Harry knew he still had doubts. Harry had his own doubts; he remembered what he had learned about Neville's parents. If two highly-trained Aurors had gone insane from the Cruciatus Curse—the curse Voldemort had used on Ginny in his vision—then what chance did a fourteen-year-old have, experiencing it for several months?

"Harry, can I ask you something?" Ron asked, somewhat hesitantly. Harry hoped he was trying to change the subject, but he still looked serious.

"Sure, anything."

"At the council, when…when Frodo pulled out the ring and put it on that table thing, did you feel…well…" Ron hesitated. Harry wondered where he could be going with this. "Did you feel like…like running up and grabbing it?"

_What?_ "Um…no, not really."

"You didn't? Are you sure?"

"I'm pretty sure I didn't feel anything like that."

"What did you feel, then?"

Harry shrugged. "I didn't really feel anything."

"I think I'm going crazy," Ron muttered.

"Don't be stupid," Harry said quickly. "That ring is the most powerful dark magic in this 

world…of course it's going to have weird effects on people. I mean…you saw how all those stuffy old council people started yelling at each other when they were trying to figure out who should take it. I'll bet they felt the same thing you did."

"Then why didn't you feel it?"

Harry pointed at his scar. "Dark magic doesn't really work the same way on me as it does on most people, remember?"

"I guess," Ron said, looking slightly less anxious.

There was a short pause, and then Ron said, "I'm going back to bed."

"See you in the morning," Harry called, as Ron walked back to the camp.

Harry didn't like it that Ron was upset about the ring's effects on him, but he would rather have Ron thinking about that than worrying about Ginny. He was only a little concerned about Ron's apparently strong attraction to the ring's power; Frodo was keeping it safe, and he was confident Ron was strong enough to resist its evil magic.

Now distracted with thoughts about the ring the same way Ron was, Harry was able to get his mind off his vision and also go back to sleep.

* * *

Sirius had spent the entire day working out escape schemes that had been buzzing through his mind ever since he had first regained consciousness in Edoras. To his disappointment, it appeared impossible for him to escape through Éowyn's bedroom door; it was highly unlikely he would make it to the front door of the palace without encountering guards, and they would stop him whether he was man or dog.

Another idea was to run away when Éowyn took him for one of their new daily walks, but Sirius feared that Éowyn had grown too attached to him. She had demonstrated several times a wish to keep him even after he was fully healed. If he suddenly ran away, Éowyn—spoiled as she was, and with Théodred's support—could probably have every soldier in Rohan out looking for her dog. Sirius still had injuries, and wasn't sure how far he'd be able to run as a dog or a human. If he got far enough away from the palace to transform without being seen, he wasn't sure he'd have the energy to do it.

Sirius had observed that the area around the palace was bustling with activity during the daytime, but was quiet at night. This would be the best time for his escape; as a dog or a human, he could easily sneak away slowly from the palace under cover of darkness, without physically exerting himself. The only problem was, Éowyn kept him in her room during the night, and, as stated before, Sirius knew he couldn't escape through her door. That left only one option—the window.

Éowyn had one small window in her room, in a strange position high up on the wall close to her bed, which was also oddly positioned in a corner of her room rather than the center. The window was boarded for the winter, but Sirius was confident a gentle push would get it open. Unfortunately, it was too high on the wall and too narrow for him to get through as a dog; he would have to transform into a human and climb through, then transform back into a dog so he would be less easily seen sneaking away from the palace.

But the window was so high that he could not simply climb through it, even as a human. He would have to stand on top of something to get to it. There was no tall box or shelf he could drag to the small space in between the bed and the wall without being heard, which left only one option.

Sirius was obviously reluctant to risk standing on top of Éowyn's bed while she was sleeping in it, but he discovered it wasn't as dangerous as he originally thought. After testing it with his paw, he found the mattress wasn't the least bit springy, and the royal bed was enormous enough to leave a large space on the side Sirius needed to stand on, so he didn't have to worry about accidentally stepping on Éowyn. Despite the concern that Éowyn might somehow be alerted to his presence and wake up, it still seemed the least risky of all his plans, and he couldn't waste any more time here thinking of new ones.

Motivated by his desire to see Lupin and Tonks, Sirius waited until a couple hours after Éowyn had fallen asleep, then transformed into a human. He immediately winced; he had grown used to his injuries in dog form, but as a human they somehow translated into completely different places.

Sirius slowly crept over to Éowyn's bed and stood at the edge of it, squinting at her in the darkness to make sure she was fully asleep. He knew that if she suddenly awoke now she'd see a dark figure standing at the edge of her bed and probably scream, which would not only ruin his plan but most likely also get him killed. Luckily, she seemed happily dreaming.

Sirius, his heart pounding, walked over to the space between her bed and the wall, and then stepped up onto the edge of the bed. He slowly let out a quiet sigh as he stood successfully on top of it without having woken Éowyn.

Ignoring the horrible feeling that something would suddenly go wrong, Sirius whispered a goodbye and thank you to the sleeping Éowyn, who had taken such good care of him, and then turned to the window. He gripped the ledge with both hands, then pulled himself partway up, placing his left foot against the wall for leverage and letting his injured right leg dangle. He lifted his right hand from the ledge, preparing to push out the board on the window, when suddenly…

Sirius' left hand lost its grip on the ledge, and his left leg slipped. For a split second of horror Sirius came tumbling down; his right leg hit the ground in the space between the bed and the wall at an awkward angle, and he barely suppressed the urge to scream as he heard a sickening crack and felt horrible pain shooting upward from his ankle. He fell backward onto Éowyn's bed, his head landing close to her body.

There was no way she could've slept through that. Using all of his mental discipline to ignore the pain, Sirius got up and knelt next to Éowyn, whose eyes were now open; she stared at him in total shock. Then, suddenly, she opened her mouth to scream. Sirius quickly clamped a hand over her mouth and pinned her shoulder down with his other hand, knowing his execution was almost assured now.

"I won't hurt you," Sirius frantically whispered. "I swear I won't hurt you…" Sirius swallowed hard, trying to block the pain from his mind. He would have to be very calm to keep himself from looking like a raving lunatic.

Éowyn's eyes were wide; in the dim light of the room, there was no way she could see his face clearly. Sirius was lucky it was winter, and her body was trapped under heavy layers of blankets, or she might easily have attacked him and gotten away.

Sirius knew his earlier human meeting with her had made an impression large enough for her to name her dog after him, so he hoped that if he introduced himself, she might calm down. "I…I'm Sirius. Sirius Black. Do you remember me? I don't want to hurt you…you have to believe me."

Éowyn looked confused for a moment, then suddenly turned her eyes to the other side of the room, where Sirius the dog usually slept. Her eyes widened again as they snapped back to Sirius.

_Oh my God,_ Sirius thought with horror. _She's made the connection…again…_

Sirius knew he had to let go of her if he wanted her to believe he had good intentions. He was terrified she would accuse him of being an evil wizard and start screaming, but it seemed he had no other choice.

"Please don't make a sound," Sirius said. "I'm going to let go of you…just don't scream or anything…and don't move…"

Sirius slowly released his hands from her mouth and shoulder. Éowyn stared at his dark figure, then whispered, "What are you doing?"

Sirius hadn't been expecting this, but it seemed like a sensible enough question when he thought about it. He knew there was no point in lying now. "I was trying to get out of here by climbing through your window, but I fell."

To Sirius' amazement, Éowyn suddenly smiled rather nervously, and said, "I used to try to climb out of that window all the time when I was a little girl, to sneak out of my room…it's slippery, isn't it? I nearly broke my arm once."

Sirius blinked and didn't know what to say. The horrible pain of his broken ankle was almost forgotten now as he stared down at Éowyn.

"I know you are not going to hurt me," Éowyn said, looking somewhat nervous but not the least bit scared. "You have had plenty of opportunities to hurt me lately, and you have not, so I know you will not harm me."

"How…how did you know that I…that I was the dog?"

"There was something about him…it just…reminded me of you. But I thought I was going mad for thinking such things until tonight."

"Are there a lot of people you know who can turn into animals?"

"Oh, I have heard stories…men turning into bears, and that sort of thing…I honestly never believed any of them…now I am not so sure they were all fabricated. Some may have at least held partial truths."

"You…" Sirius paused. "You certainly have an open mind," he said, trying not to make it sound too much like an insult.

Éowyn slowly started repositioning herself, and when Sirius didn't object, she sat up fully and faced him, freeing her arms from the restrictive heavy covers. "You appear to be in pain," she said suddenly, concerned.

"I'm all right," Sirius lied quickly. "I just need to get out of here. Will you help me?"

"But you are not well yet…"

"My friends could be in trouble. I have to find them."

"I understand…of course I will help you."

"Good. I need to…" Sirius stopped suddenly.

"What is it?"

"I…I don't think…" Sirius felt all of his hopes slowly draining away. "I don't think I can walk," he said quietly.

"Is it because of that leg that you hurt?"

"It's not only that, I…I sort of twisted my ankle when I fell…"

"Let me see it."

"No," Sirius said quickly. "I…I know it's broken."

There was a pause, then Éowyn said, "You are not going to get anywhere with a broken ankle."

Sirius bowed his head. "I can't do anything right…"

"What happened to you? How were you injured so severely, when Théodred found you?"

Éowyn may have freely accepted the idea of an Animagus, but he wasn't sure she was ready for werewolves. "I…it's hard to explain," Sirius mumbled, feeling utterly depressed. It could take months to heal his broken ankle, especially if the fracture was as bad as it had sounded. A horrible thought began to grow in his mind that, in this world of ancient Muggle medicine, his ankle might never properly heal; he may never walk the same way again.

"Your friends are the ones who came here to Edoras with you, correct?" Éowyn asked suddenly.

"Yes…"

"Then I will have Théodred informed about their appearances, and he can ask around about their possible whereabouts. There are not very many people in Rohan with dark hair, and travelers are becoming more rare in these dangerous times; someone must remember seeing them."

Sirius slowly lifted his head and stared at her, marveling at her seemingly limitless generosity. Helping a sick dog was one thing, but a mysterious stranger with magical powers?

"That would be…" Sirius paused suddenly and frowned. "Wouldn't Théodred wonder why you told him about the people?"

Éowyn hesitated. "Well…I would probably have to tell him about you."

Sirius the dog had become acquainted with Théodred. He knew the prince was Éowyn's cousin, but he had observed the two had an almost brother-sister relationship, and a deep friendship much stronger than Éowyn and Éomer's. Théodred was always very kind to Sirius the dog—Sirius knew the prince had gone out of his way to rescue him—but wasn't sure if he would accept the strange man who had been sleeping in Éowyn's room for nearly two weeks disguised as an animal.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Sirius said.

"Oh, he would completely believe me. He is the one who tells me all the wild stories about shapeshifters and such. And he is so very kind…he would never try to judge you. Why, I heard a couple weeks ago he met with a wild black man from the southeast, and allowed his army to pass through Rohan! He is tolerant of strangers…"

"I don't know…"

"We agree on everything. If I say you are a good man, he will believe me. And he would never tell anyone else about you if I told him to keep it secret."

"It's too risky."

"It could be the only way to find your friends."

Sirius thought about it, and found he agreed with her. "Fine," he said, sighing. "Tell Théodred about me…but if he doesn't agree with you about me, I'm getting out of here, if I have to hop on one leg to do it."

Éowyn nodded. "I understand…I will tell him as soon as I am given the opportunity."

There was a pause.

"You'd better get your sleep," Sirius said. "And I…I should rest too…"

"Oh, I feel so awful making you sleep on the floor all these nights…" she glanced at the hard-floored corner the dog had slept in, then at her enormous and luxurious bed, and then back at Sirius.

There was a momentary pause, and then Sirius said hurriedly, "That's fine, I mean…I like sleeping on the floor. Really."

"All right," Éowyn said, looking somewhat relieved. Sirius was likewise relieved at her relief.

There was a pause in the conversation as Sirius carefully climbed off the bed; he felt intense pain when he tried to put pressure on his right foot, so he transformed into a dog and used his three good feet to walk over to his usual sleeping corner.

"You can tell me more about yourself some other time," Éowyn said, smiling down at the dog. "We should have a lot of time together now."

Being a dog, Sirius could only nod. Then he curled up and closed his eyes, going to sleep.


	23. Chapter 23: Unusual Behavior

Chapter 23

Unusual Behavior

Ginny opened her eyes. It was impossible to tell what time it was in Mordor, but she usually woke up around the same time every day, and thus regarded that time as "morning."

Ginny's daily routine was very simple. In what she figured was the middle of the night, Voldemort would wake her up and drag her to his personal chambers, where he would torture her for as long as he pleased. Every torture session was a win-lose situation; the Cruciatus Curse—his favorite—was by far the most painful, but it lasted only a few seconds. If Voldemort decided to use other less painful curses, he could spend almost an hour with her.

Whenever he was finished, Ginny would return to her room and fall back asleep…or, more often, collapse. Ginny would then wake up, in the "morning." Shortly afterward Draco Malfoy would bring her food.

This was the most surprising element of her schedule, but one she had gotten used to over the past few days. Draco had gone from occasionally dropping by—sometimes with good intentions, sometimes bad—to coming twice a day. He never taunted her anymore; he didn't even speak at all. He would just come in, give her food, watch her until she finished eating it, and then leave. Sometimes Ginny spoke to him, but he never said anything back. Ginny didn't know why he acted this way, but she had the feeling he liked listening to her talk, even if he couldn't bring himself to respond.

After he left, or before he came if he was late, Ginny would amuse herself with a piece of coal Draco had brought her one time along with her food. She drew all sorts of pictures on the walls; she didn't know how long it would take Ron to rescue her, so she concentrated her drawings to one small corner of the room, in order to have plenty of space left over for the rest of her wait. She also had a separate place, on the ground, where she had recently started marking the number of days she had spent as Voldemort's prisoner. She felt like she had barely started, but the tally marks already read six; after Draco came with her food today, she would add a seventh. She couldn't even guess how many days she had spent here before she started making the marks.

Other than the piece of coal, Ginny had only one other item in her possession—a small, sharp rock. It was too small to use as an effective weapon, but Ginny was saving it just in case there was an opportunity where it was needed. It had occurred to her that she might be able to slit her wrists with the rock, but she currently wasn't considering that as an option. She truly believed that Ron and the others would come rescue her, even though she knew it was a trap; after all, Harry had escaped from Voldemort's Triwizard Tournament trap at the end of the previous school year, and Voldemort was surely no match for Dumbledore, with or without a wand.

She heard a mumbling outside the door. _Malfoy must be talking to the guard…he's right on schedule_. Ginny sat up excitedly, ready to be fed. The portions she was provided by Draco were very small, and not enough to fill her appetite, but they kept her from starving, and that was enough.

The door opened. Malfoy walked into the room…but not the Malfoy she had been hoping to see.

There was only one random event in Ginny's routine—Lucius. So far he had come into her room three times in the past seven days. The first time he had simply taunted her. The second time was disturbing; all he did was stare at her a few seconds before leaving. The third time he had approached her with a knife out, as though to attack her, then suddenly backed away and taunted her like the first time before leaving. Ginny didn't know what was going through his head, but she was certain he was even more insane than Voldemort. She figured it must be a recent change; Lucius Malfoy, while evil, had certainly seemed stable-minded whenever he annoyed her father at the Ministry.

Ginny feared what he might do this time, but tried to keep a calm demeanor as Lucius closed the door behind him.

Lucius walked up to her and stood in front of her, looking down at her with a smirk on his face. "Why do you look so miserable? I thought you would be used to conditions like this, considering your family's…status."

Ginny stared silently up at him; this wasn't so bad. He was just here to taunt her again.

Lucius' smirk disappeared. "Don't look at me like that!"

Now Ginny was a little worried, but she tried not to show it. "How would you have me look at you?" she asked calmly.

"Oh, I see that smug look on your face…and I can hear it in your voice, that…air of superiority you have, like you're better than I am!"

Ginny decided not to object; she certainly did believe herself better than him.

Ginny gasped as Lucius suddenly grabbed her and pulled her to her feet, then pushed her against the wall. "You listen to me, blood traitor," he snarled. "The Dark Lord has given me permission to do whatever I want to you. _Whatever I want_. I could even kill you, if I wanted to."

Ginny knew the killing part wasn't true; she wondered if Lucius was just lying, or if he actually believed what he was saying.

"You are going to do what I want, understand? Whatever I tell you to do, you have to do it!"

Ginny nodded slowly. For the first time, she was deathly afraid of Lucius Malfoy. She had become accustomed to Voldemort's magical torturing techniques, but Lucius could torture her in a very different way that right now frightened her more than the Cruciatus Curse.

"Good," Lucius said, and he was staring at her very strangely now, like how he had looked at her on his second visit. "If you try _anything_, you will experience unimaginable pain. Understand?"

Ginny nodded again, although she really didn't understand. _Won't I experience unimaginable pain anyway?_

Lucius reached out his hand. Ginny closed her eyes. Sometimes she was almost able to block the pain from Voldemort's curses. Maybe she could block whatever Lucius did to her…she wouldn't have to see it or feel it, it would be like nothing happened at all…

Ginny was not successful; she felt what happened, but it wasn't what she was expecting. Lucius…kissed her.

Ginny was stunned. The kiss wasn't passionate or violent; it was gentle. When he stopped Ginny stared at him with a completely bewildered look on her face. Lucius blinked several times, looking just as surprised as she was. Then, the familiar snarl reappeared on his face, and he turned around and stormed out of the room.

Ginny slowly slumped back down into a sitting position. So many strange feelings were going through her she didn't know what to think. Mostly, she was completely confused by Lucius' behavior. She knew he was an evil man; why did he treat her so oddly, when he seemed to want to simply hurt her? For that matter, why did his son also treat her strangely? Voldemort was the only one who didn't seem to have any trouble torturing her.

Ginny's thoughts were interrupted by the door opening again. She feared it would be Lucius returning, but it was Draco, and he looked nervous for some reason.

"Hello Draco," Ginny said, relieved to see him.

"Was…did my…did my father come in here?" Draco asked hesitantly.

"Yes," Ginny said, surprised he was speaking to her.

"Did he…er…he didn't…he didn't…" Draco stopped, waiting for her to interrupt. She didn't. "Why did he come to see you?"

"I don't know," Ginny said quietly.

"Did he…" Draco swallowed, and Ginny could tell it was very difficult for him to ask her the following question: "Did he hurt you?"

Ginny wasn't sure how to answer. "Well, no…not exactly…"

"What do you mean?"

"He…well…he kissed me."

There was a pause, and then Draco said, quite flatly, "No."

Ginny blinked. "That's what he did."

"My father wouldn't do that."

"He was…"

"My father wouldn't do that!" Draco roared. "Shut up!"

Ginny's eyes widened with fear. She shouldn't have said anything at all…now he might not bring her food anymore…he might even hurt her…

Ever since she had arrived in Mordor, Ginny had forced herself to be strong and contain all her emotions, but the thought of losing the only thing she could look forward to every day, and possibly making a new enemy, was too much for her. She suddenly burst into tears.

"Stop it!" Draco yelled. "Stop…stop crying…"

"I was so afraid," Ginny sobbed, tears gushing down her cheeks despite her attempts to wipe them away and regain her previous calm. "I didn't know what he was going to do to me…and when he kissed me, I…I didn't know what to think, I…I don't know what he was thinking…"

"He wasn't thinking," Draco whispered.

Ginny swallowed and managed to hold back her sobs as she stared up at Draco, who no longer looked angry. "You believe me now?"

"He's been acting strange," Draco said quietly. "He doesn't talk to me much, and when he does, he just yells at me…he's been treating me like I'm some kind of enemy."

"Do you know why?"

"I don't know…but he didn't mean what he did to you. He…he's not like that. He and my mother…" Draco paused, then repeated, "He's not like that. He would never…"

"But he did," Ginny interrupted, "and he might do it again."

Draco thought about this for a moment, and then said, "I won't let him hurt you."

"I don't know what you can do to stop him if he decides to hurt me."

"I know what I can do." Draco reached into his robes and handed her a piece of moldy bread, then turned and left.

Draco walked over to Voldemort's room; the Dark Lord seemed to be doing nothing. He always seemed to be doing nothing whenever Draco approached him; he figured Voldemort must be doing something he just didn't understand.

"Hello Malfoy," Voldemort said, with the slightest hint of a smile.

"My Lord…I have a…question, and a request," Draco said.

"Yes?"

"Is it true you told my father he could do whatever he wanted to the prisoner?"

Voldemort cocked his head to the side curiously. "Yes, that is true."

"I request you…reconsider that."

"Why?"

"I…I just don't like it."

Voldemort raised an eyebrow. "And why not?"

"Because…" Draco hesitated. This plan seemed horribly stupid now; he might lose Voldemort's respect, and that was very important to him. But if his father was tormenting Ginny…

"Because I want her for myself," Draco said hurriedly, and nervously.

"I torture her every day…she is not your prisoner, Malfoy."

"No, that's not what I…I meant…I don't want my father to…I don't want him…touching her."

"Touching her? You mean you have taken a physical interest in the girl?"

Draco hesitated, but he knew that if he hesitated too long Voldemort might grow suspicious and use Legilimency, revealing that it was a lie. "Yes."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed. Draco quickly spoke again, to try to keep Voldemort focused on what he was saying and not what he was thinking. "My father also seems to have…taken a physical interest in her. I want you to tell him to stay away from her."

Voldemort considered this for a moment, and then said, slowly and somewhat sourly, "I will tell him."

Draco blinked in surprise. "You mean…you'll tell him not to see her anymore?"

"Yes."

"Th-thank you, my Lord…"

Voldemort folded his arms. "Get out of here, Malfoy," he said, looking angry.

Draco hurriedly exited. He was happy he had successfully convinced Voldemort to stop whatever his father was doing, but he didn't understand how he had done it and was worried about Voldemort's behavior regarding the situation. Voldemort seemed very disapproving of Draco's request, and angry at the end, yet he still granted it. Draco wondered what his reasoning was. But despite his worries, he knew Voldemort wasn't horribly angry with him. _He still called me Malfoy, not Draco…_

* * *

Tonks slowly awoke from a long sleep, keeping her eyes closed as she savored the feeling of relaxation before having to get up. Although her face was cold, the rest of her felt quite cozy; her body was touching something, something very warm…another person.

Tonks' eyes snapped open. She and Lupin had been sharing a tent, but only because the Haradrim thought they were married. Tonks' furs were on a completely opposite side of the tent from Lupin's. Yet here she was, huddled up against him…and that wasn't all. He had put his arm around her and was holding her close to him.

Tonks glanced over her shoulder and realized this was Lupin's side of the tent, not hers. She must have rolled over here, or come to him because she was so cold without realizing. But if it was an accident, why was Lupin holding her like that? It could've been a subconscious reaction…or it could've been something else.

Ever since she had started to get to know Lupin better, Tonks had always wondered if his feelings for her extended beyond friendship. This could be proof that they did, but she couldn't know for sure without waking him up.

"Er…Remus?" she said rather nervously, nudging him.

Lupin slowly opened his eyes and yawned. "Wha…" he turned his head toward Tonks, who was still lying right next to him, and immediately let go of her, his eyes wide. "I…I'm sorry, I…"

"It's okay," Tonks said, smiling. Judging by his reaction, he hadn't been holding her close on purpose. "I must've crawled over here in the middle of the night, because it was so cold, even though I was asleep when I did it…sorry I made you uncomfortable…"

"No, no, it's all right…I mean…it isn't your fault, you didn't mean it," Lupin said, looking rather paler than usual.

Tonks got up. "Well, I'm off," she said. "Going to take a nice morning walk." Realizing this might be sort of rude, she quickly added, "Do you want to come with me?"

"I…I would, but my leg has been giving me some trouble lately."

"Oh," Tonks said, wondering if this was true or if he was just making up an excuse. "Okay."

Tonks's suspicions about Lupin's feelings were discarded as she walked out of the tent, but Lupin was beginning to have his own suspicions about Tonks. _Did she really do that on accident? And why did she call me by my first name? She usually calls me Moony. _Lupin recalled what Sirius had often said when they were traveling to Isengard together—that Tonks liked him more than he realized. He had always dismissed this, but now…_There may have been some truth in that after all…_


	24. Chapter 24: Secret Identities

Chapter 24

Secret Identities

After five days of traveling, the Fellowship was making good progress. They had just stopped for a brief rest while Gandalf and Aragorn scouted ahead to make sure their immediate route was clear.

When they were a decent distance from the rest of the Fellowship, Gandalf spoke to Aragorn. "There is something I have been meaning to tell you."

"Yes?" Aragorn asked curiously.

"Galadriel had a vision about Dumbledore…she believes he is not to be trusted."

"Galadriel had a vision about Dumbledore?" Aragorn repeated.

Gandalf frowned slightly, believing the last part of his statement to be more important. "Yes…"

"Rarely are her visions so…specific. Can she be sure it was Dumbledore whom she saw in the vision?"

"Considering she would not otherwise know who Dumbledore is, I am assuming that is precisely whom she saw."

"What exactly was it in the vision which indicated that Dumbledore could not be trusted?"

"I am not certain…Elrond could give me no details."

"Well, if our journey happens to take us through Lothlórien, we may ask her in person what has caused her concerns."

"Indeed. I merely caution you to be wary of Dumbledore…he could be more powerful than he seems. I do not think he is an evil person, but it is possible that he has a very strong attraction to the ring, or that his powers are greater than we suspect."

"Thank you for informing me of this. I would not otherwise have kept special watch on Dumbledore…"

Meanwhile, back at the resting spot, Dumbledore had casually led Harry, Ron, and Hermione away from the main group, instructing Neville to try his best to distract the others while they were gone to prevent unwelcome eavesdroppers.

"There is something I want to tell you," Dumbledore said, looking very serious.

"What is it?" Harry asked curiously.

"I did not want to alarm you earlier, but…ever since we left Bree I have sensed a sort of…evil energy lingering about the group."

"You mean the ring," Harry said. "You must be able to sense its power."

"That is what I thought at first, but that cannot be its source."

"Why not?" Harry asked.

"Oh, I know," Hermione said suddenly, as though this were some sort of classroom quiz. "Frodo was carrying the ring since we met him in the forest; we only found out about it in Bree. If it were the ring, you would've sensed it before then."

"Precisely," Dumbledore said.

"So…you're saying we picked up something in Bree that's evil?" Ron asked, frowning. He glanced warily back at the resting spot, where Bill the Pony was.

"I am not entirely certain, but I think…" Dumbledore started.

"Oh, but of course!" Hermione interrupted suddenly. "You-Know-Who must've sent more than just one Death Eater to Bree, there must've been others, and they've been following us…"

Dumbledore shook his head, then said darkly, "I believe I have been able to locate the source of the dark energy, and it is from within the Fellowship itself…from within a person in the Fellowship."

"But then…" Harry started, but his voice trailed off.

"Aragorn," Ron said, his eyes widening.

"Yes," Dumbledore said, nodding. "I wasn't sure at first, but now I am reasonably certain that he is the source."

"He did hide his true identity from us for quite some time," Hermione said slowly.

"But he's not evil, he can't be," Harry protested. "He's Gandalf's friend, and Elrond knows him, and everything…"

"I am not certain that the man we have been traveling with is the same Aragorn who was friends with Gandalf and Elrond," Dumbledore said. "I think it is a dark agent in disguise."

"You mean a Death Eater with Polyjuice Potion?" Ron asked.

"You are still thinking in terms of our world. No, this man would have to have intimate knowledge of this world and the real Aragorn. I suspect he was sent by the Dark Lord Sauron. But it is likely that Voldemort has given him orders as well."

"But he's been helping us," Harry said, still in disbelief. "We would never have survived Weathertop if it weren't for him…"

"Maybe he's leading us into a trap," Ron suggested.

"You are forgetting, Mordor _is_ the trap," Dumbledore said. "I believe Voldemort and Sauron sent him to ensure that ourselves and the ring reach Mordor."

"Then maybe we shouldn't be so worried, since that's what we're planning to do," Hermione said. "I mean, he'll be helping us along, at least until we get close to Mordor…"

"We know that the dark lords want us and the ring, but it is unlikely they want all the hobbits, or the rest of the Fellowship. No; if he is a servant of the enemy, there is nothing to be gained by having him around."

"I still don't believe it…not until I have proof," Harry said firmly.

"And I expect the rest of you to follow Harry's example," Dumbledore said. "This is all based on a mere feeling I have, and it could be utterly incorrect. I simply want you to be aware, and guarded around Aragorn."

"The snakes!" Hermione cried suddenly.

"What?" Dumbledore asked curiously.

"Aragorn wears a ring that has snakes on it…I asked him about it once, but he said some vague thing about a family heirloom…and then he said he really liked snakes…"

"That doesn't mean anything," Harry said, feeling some sympathy for Aragon after this accusation; after all, in his second year everyone thought he was the Heir of Slytherin because of his odd relationship with snakes.

But Dumbledore took the observation much more seriously. "I never noticed his ring…snakes…I believe Voldemort possesses a ring with snakes on it…it may be similar…if not the very same one."

"You're saying Aragorn's got Voldemort's ring?" Ron asked. "Why?"

"Perhaps as a means of authenticating his true identity to the dark lords or their servants…a way of proving that he is not the real Aragorn," Dumbledore said thoughtfully.

"Sir," Harry said, somewhat uncomfortably, "I think you're jumping to a lot of conclusions…"

Dumbledore smiled. "Yes, yes…we should not speculate any longer, for fear of inclining ourselves to believe one thing over the other…until we have substantial proof, we should say no more of this. A final warning—be very careful when speaking to him. If he is a servant of the enemy, we cannot let him know that we suspect it."

Dumbledore walked off.

"I think he _is_ hiding something," Hermione said.

"Yeah—_Dumbledore_ is," Ron mumbled.

"Dumbledore?" Harry repeated.

"Well, you heard what he said, didn't you? That he 'sensed something'? Since when has Dumbledore ever sensed that something was evil?"

"Maybe he has, and you just don't know about it," Hermione snapped.

"Yeah, well, if he did, I'd think he would've sensed that other stuff was evil…"

"What 'other stuff'?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You know…like…like Scabbers…"

"Dumbledore never spent long enough with your pet rat to be able to sense anything from it," Hermione said scornfully.

"But he did spend a lot of time with the teachers," Harry said suddenly. "If he could sense whether or not something was evil, you'd think he would've known about Moody really being Crouch…"

"Or that Quirrell had You-Know-Who on the back of his head," Ron added.

"They might've had spells to protect against that sort of thing," Hermione said, sounding a little more unsure.

"Hermione, have you ever read about any spells like that?" Ron asked.

"Well…no…"

"Then they can't exist."

"Oh, Ron, there's a lot of things that I…"

"Dumbledore's definitely not telling us something," Harry interrupted.

"But why would Dumbledore lie to us?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know," Harry said slowly. "But whatever the reason…it can't be good."

----------------------------------

"Hello Théodred," Éowyn said, smiling.

Her cousin immediately turned away from the guard he had been chatting with and grinned at her. "Hello Éowyn…"

"Could we…could we possibly…"

"Of course," Théodred said quickly. Excusing himself from the guard, he led Éowyn over to his bedroom and they sat down on the edge of the bed.

"What is it you wanted to talk about?" Théodred asked curiously.

"Well, it…it is rather…" Éowyn hesitated. "You used to tell me stories about men who could turn into animals."

"Yes."

"Do you…believe those stories?"

"Of course I believe them," Théodred said, frowning slightly. "Well, most of them, at least."

"What if…what if I were to tell you…"

"Does this have something to do with Sirius?" Théodred asked suddenly.

Éowyn blinked with surprise. "Well, yes…"

"You have noticed how calm and intelligent he is…you suspect that he is more than just a dog?"

"Well…actually, I…met him. The man, Sirius, I mean."

"You mean he actually turned into a person?!"

"Yes…he was trying to escape from the palace, but his wounds are too severe…"

"Escape? Why escape?"

"He wants to find his friends. They were separated when he was wounded. He needs help finding them, but…I can tell you about that later…"

"Who is he…what is his name?"

Éowyn smiled. "Well, it's…Sirius, actually."

"I thought you named him Sirius."

"I named the dog Sirius after a man named Sirius…and it turns out that the dog was that very man."

"That's…quite remarkable," Théodred said, his eyebrows raised, but more in bewildered wonder than skepticism.

"I think you should meet him."

"I would love to! We should tell H…"

"No," Éowyn interrupted. "We cannot tell anyone about him."

"Why not?"

"Because Éomer would be furious if he learned about it, and would probably banish the poor man from the palace."

"Oh…it is true that anyone we tell might reveal it to Éomer. Very well, I suppose we can keep it a secret…but what a secret! Does he have any other magical powers?"

Éowyn frowned thoughtfully. "I did not think to ask him."

"I want to meet him."

"Yes, of course…"

They went from Théodred's room to Éowyn's, which wasn't far. Sirius the dog was lying in his usual spot on the floor; he lifted his head when he saw Théodred and Éowyn enter.

Éowyn shut the door behind them. "It is all right, Sirius," she said, smiling. "You may show him."

Sirius transformed into a person, wincing with pain. He swallowed, then slightly inclined his head at Théodred.

"Nice to meet you…in person," Théodred said.

Sirius smiled at the joke; it seemed he wouldn't have any problems with Théodred. "I'm sorry I didn't reveal myself to either of you right away…I wasn't sure how you'd react."

"It is quite all right," Théodred said. "You made a wise decision. Tell me—do you have any other magical powers?"

Sirius shook his head. "This is the only thing I can do without my wand."

"Your wand?"

"It's…complicated. My wand is really far away, and there's no way I'm going to get it any time soon, so you could pretty much say turning into a dog is the only thing I can do."

"I see," Théodred said, nodding interestedly.

"I think I will leave you two to talk," Éowyn said with a smile. "I am going to get something to eat."

Éowyn left the room. Théodred watched her go, then turned back to Sirius. "She is an amazing woman."

"She certainly is."

"She is going to keep you here?"

"Yes, I think so…"

"I would have you moved you to my room, but I am away so often, it would not be practical."

Sirius's blinked; he wondered where Théodred was going with this.

"I am sure you are a very interesting person, Sirius," Théodred said; for the first time, Sirius saw Théodred's friendly smile vanish. "I am sure you have many interesting stories to tell…and many secrets to hide. But you cannot hide anything from me. Éowyn is my cousin, and I care deeply about her. If you bother her, touch her, hurt her, or lie to her about anything, and I find out about it, I will do worse than kill you—I will tell her brother Éomer, and let _him _deal with you. And he is one man you do not want to cross."

"I understand," Sirius said, with a touch of annoyance in his voice. "And as Éowyn seemed to get last night, if I wanted to do anything bad to her I would've done it already, before she figured out I was human. You don't have to threaten me. I'm not an idiot."

"You misunderstand me," Théodred said, the smile returning. "I want to be your friend as much as Éowyn does. I know you are very intelligent…and I would love to know more about you. But you cannot blame me for being cautious…as a human being, you are a stranger to me, and you are in an excellent position to hurt Éowyn, if you so choose. But I trust you enough not to tell anyone else about you. I merely want you to understand the consequences if you prove that trust unfounded."

"I get it," Sirius said. "I don't want to do anything to Éowyn, I promise. I'll probably just sleep as a dog most of the time I'm here until I get better, and then I'll leave."

"I hope we get to talk together a little, at least," Théodred said, before he, too, left.

Sirius sighed and prepared himself for the pain of transforming back into a dog. _As soon as I can walk, I'm getting out of here…_


	25. Chapter 25: Sacrifice

Chapter 25

Sacrifice

Tonks, who had by now learned her way around the Haradrim camp fairly well, was also getting to know some of the soldiers. Very few of them spoke Westron, but one who did was a man named Dahrik. He one of Zendar's adjutants, and he spent most of his free time near the armory tent with a group of friends. Tonks had recently started visiting with this group, and was becoming friendly with Dahrik, who translated for her. Dahrik and his friends were very kind and courteous to Tonks; they reminded her of some Hufflepuffs she had known back at Hogwarts. She wondered how they had ever come to be soldiers.

Today, Tonks had noticed that Dahrik's group seemed rather more light-hearted and excited than usual, and she observed similar good vibes throughout the camp. As she walked back to her tent, she wondered if a big skirmish had gone successfully.

Expecting to see Lupin, Tonks was surprised to find Nurza inside the tent. "Where's Moony?" she asked.

"He is with the healers," Nurza replied. "They are dressing his injuries."

"Oh," Tonks said, grateful to be speaking to someone who actually spoke clear English; Dahrik, like Zendar, did not have a complete grasp on the language, and was often difficult to understand. "He'll be back soon, then?"

"Yes. I was waiting here for him."

"Nurza, did we win any battles recently?"

"We?"

"I mean you, your army, and everything," Tonks said, and it occurred to her that for the first time she had included herself as a member of the Haradrim army.

"We have defeated many small bands of orcs, but we have won no great battles," Nurza said.

"Oh…I was just wondering, because everyone seemed so happy," Tonks said. "I mean, the men, and everything…they all seemed excited about something."

Nurza smiled. "The reason for the excitement is not a battle. They are excited because in five days is a great celebration."

"Celebration for what?"

"It is for…" Nurza paused, searching for the word. "It is for a holiday."

"Oh," Tonks said, wondering if it was something like Christmas. She realized that she must 

have missed Christmas during her stay in Middle-earth, although she wasn't certain exactly what day it was now.

"You are welcome to the celebration," Nurza said.

"Thank you," Tonks said, smiling. "I'm sure Moony and I will b…"

Suddenly the tent flap opened, a panting soldier gasped out a few words to Nurza, who immediately rushed out of the tent, glancing back at Tonks and commanding her to wait for his return.

Tonks sat down on her furs, concerned. Zendar often sent soldiers to retrieve Nurza, but this seemed very serious.

After a few minutes, Nurza returned, looking very grim. "What's wrong?" Tonks asked.

"It is Lupin," Nurza said.

Tonks stared at him in total shock. She would never have guessed that this had anything to do with him. "What is it?! What happened?!"

"He…he is injured…"

"I know he's injured, what happened?!"

"His leg is…" Nurza paused, not knowing how to explain it in Westron. "It is intruded."

"Intruded?" Tonks repeated, confused.

"It is not healing," Nurza said. "It is getting worse…"

"You mean infected?"

"Yes, I think so."

Tonks was horrified. "But…he'll be all right, won't he? It'll just take longer to heal, but he'll be all right…"

"There is something," Nurza said slowly. "Our healers can sometimes save a wounded soldier by doing it, but it is very dangerous…"

"What is it?"

"His leg, it is…" Nurza paused, again seeking the words to explain. "It is a different color," he said weakly. "And the color, it is spreading. But the healers think it has not spread enough, and they can…they can remove the leg."

"Remove…" Tonks whispered, and she shook her head. "No. You can't do that."

"It sounds strange, but sometimes wounded soldiers are healed when this is done," Nurza said, as though the idea was unheard of rather than simply horrific.

"But he can't lose a leg…"

"I have told them to wait; there is still a small chance that the…infected…might stop spreading, and heal. I must pray to the gods for help first. But if I receive no help from them, and it does not heal on its own, then it must be done."

Tonks bit her lip, trying to contain her frustration. If she had a wand, she could probably heal Lupin's leg in a minute or two. Even a normal Muggle hospital could probably fix it easily. But here…

It was true that healers at St. Mungo's could probably regrow Lupin's leg if it were lost, or at the very least create a functional magical one for him, but getting him back to the white tree, miles away in that forest in the far west, would be nearly impossible if he couldn't walk. Tonks then remembered that Nurza had described the amputation procedure as "dangerous," and talked about it as though it were a novel idea. Tonks realized that the mortality rate for patients who had amputations must be very high. Tears filled her eyes as Tonks realized there was a great chance Lupin could die.

"He wishes to see you," Nurza said.

Tonks nodded and followed Nurza over to the medical tent, which was spacious and fairly empty, save for the healers, two mildly wounded soldiers, and Lupin.

Tonks hid any traces of tears and immediately rushed over to Lupin while Nurza consulted more with the healers. "How are you feeling?" she asked, trying not to look upset.

Lupin looked utterly miserable—almost as awful as he had looked on their first night in the camp, after believing he had killed Sirius. But he actually managed to force a smile as he looked up at Tonks. "I've been better."

Tonks glanced down and saw his left leg; she quickly looked away from it, her eyes resting on his face once again. The discoloration wasn't as bad as she had imagined it, but seeing the reality of it was just as disturbing as her grotesque fears.

"If you ever need anything, you just yell at those guys to come get me, okay?" Tonks said.

"Tonks," Lupin said, in a slow, measured voice, "I need you to listen very carefully to what I have to say, all right?"

Tonks nodded. "Sure…"

"I need you to do something for me."

Tonks shifted nervously. "All right, if it's within reason…"

"I need you to go back…back to the white tree, back to our world."

"That is _not_ within reason," Tonks said flatly. "I won't leave here without you."

"You remember all the hard riding and marching we did to get here. I would never be able to do that with an infected leg…or with one leg."

"But Nurza said…"

"Nurza told me he would pray. That doesn't really sound promising, does it?"

Tonks couldn't stop the tears now. "I'll carry you back to the tree if I have to."

"You couldn't. Not alone."

"Then I'll find someone to help me!"

"That's exactly what I want you to do."

Tonks blinked. "But I thought you said…"

"I need you to go back to our world, and find some Order members…hopefully the Death Eaters are waiting for Voldemort's return before they start anything. Tell the Order about the situation, and get them to come here…it's been so long since the injury, I know the infection has been spreading slowly. It'll probably be another few months before it kills me, and if you hurry, you and the Order members could come here and then bring me back through the white tree and to St. Mungo's…even if I'm half-dead I'm sure the healers there would be able to fix me. I'll convince the healers to forget about the amputation, tell them to wait for you and the others."

Tonks imagined Kingsley Shacklebolt carrying Lupin on his back while other Order members cleared the way through the forest, and she smiled. Finally it seemed there was a solution in sight. "Okay…I can do it…"

"But I don't want you going all the way there alone. I need you to convince Zendar to spare one or two men to escort you, at least part way."

Tonks nodded, thinking of Dahrik. "I will."

Lupin smiled. "Thank you, Tonks."

"I'll leave as soon as I can, and I'll get help, and we'll get you home," Tonks said. She clasped 

Lupin's hand, squeezed it, and then left.

The instant she was gone Lupin's forced smile left his face, and he stared sadly at the top of the tent. He felt horrible deceiving her, but knew it would be better this way. Even after Sirius' death, she wouldn't understand the danger.

Lupin no longer cared about his leg; if he was killed during the amputation, it would probably be easier. He had known ever since arriving that he would have to heal quickly if he wanted to travel a safe distance away from the camp before the full moon; this morning's check-up was going to be the indicator of whether or not he could leave in time. He had been slightly hopeful, but the news of the infection had sealed his fate. The full moon would rise in four nights; even if he took off this instant, he wouldn't be far enough away from the camp or the surrounding villages to be sure he wouldn't kill anyone.

And so Lupin realized a fact that he had first faced after Sirius's death—that he would have to die before the next full moon, to prevent him from killing more people…more friends.

Lupin's plan was fairly simple. He would convince Nurza to convince Zendar to spare a man to go with Tonks to the white tree. This soldier would be informed of Lupin's upcoming death, but the news would be kept from Tonks. Then, the day Tonks left with the soldier, Lupin would have his leg amputated, and if he didn't die during the procedure, he would get one of the healers to kill him later, claiming he was in too much pain to go on. Once Tonks reached the white tree, the soldier would reveal that Lupin was actually dead, so that she would not come back for him.

Lupin knew the plan contained many flaws. Tonks seemed to have forgotten about the full moon, and the leg problem appeared to be distracting her from the real danger, but she could easily remember; most likely, while traveling back to the tree, Tonks would gaze up at the sky, notice the full moon, and hurry back to the camp, only to discover that Lupin was actually dead. It was also possible that the soldier could reveal to Tonks early that Lupin would die.

Lupin could only hope that, no matter what happened, the end result would be the same—Tonks would return home safely, and he would die without murdering anyone else.

For three days now Ginny had confirmed on Draco's every visit that Lucius had never come in to see her again. Draco assumed this meant that Voldemort had indeed ordered his father not to go near her again; he was too afraid to ask Voldemort whether or not this was true.

* * *

Draco knew he had taken a great risk telling Voldemort that he had an interest in Ginny, but it seemed to have paid off well. Now, Draco could visit Ginny whenever he wanted without worrying about Voldemort wondering why he went in there all the time.

Unfortunately, Draco's luck did not last. After exiting Ginny's room, Draco was stopped by the orc guard who stood outside of it.

"Your Dark Lord wants to see you," it grunted.

"Oh," Draco said, surprised the message had been relayed this way. "All right."

Draco headed over to Voldemort's "throne room," where he could usually be found when he wasn't in his personal quarters. Voldemort was indeed sitting in his usual chair…and standing next to it was Lucius.

Lucius had not spoken to Draco for a very long time. Draco didn't know what he had been up to lately, but immediately knew that something was wrong when he saw that Lucius had a smile on his face, and Voldemort had a frown.

"You wished to see me, Lord?" Draco asked, deciding to be formal.

"I did…Draco," Voldemort said, putting emphasis on the use of his first name.

Draco blinked. His heart started pounding. This was worse than he had thought. Somehow, he had lost Voldemort's respect…but how?

"For what reason?" Draco asked, trying to look innocent.

"Your father has told me a very interesting thing. He said that you are feeding the prisoner."

Draco felt faint. He had been so careful in his food smuggling, knowing that if he were caught Voldemort might even go so far as to kill him for being a traitor. It looked like it might come to that.

"Is this true, Draco?" Voldemort asked, his temper clearly on the verge of exploding.

"Yes," Draco said, knowing there was no point in lying, since Voldemort would obviously be reading his mind anyway.

Lucius grinned with delight. Voldemort clenched his fists onto the arms of his chair, then unexpectedly relaxed, and smiled evilly. "I was beginning to suspect something was wrong, but I have to admit, I could never have expected something so traitorous coming from you…"

"My Lord," Draco said, figuring it hardly mattered what he said at this point, "you weren't feeding her at all. She would've starved…to _death_. If we're trying to lure Potter and Dumbledore here, we can't…"

"Don't you think I know that?!" Voldemort cried, now rising from his chair. "She is protected from all of the life-threatening effects of starvation, but not the pain of it, that is part of her torture!" Voldemort glared at Draco a little longer, then sunk back into his chair, looking calmer. "Do not pretend that you were feeding her merely to keep her from dying so that my plan would work. If you were concerned only about the plan, you would have asked me about it. For what other reason were you feeding her?"

Draco hesitated, and it was Lucius who unexpectedly spoke. "It is obvious what the other reason is, my Lord."

"And what is that, Malfoy?"

Lucius smiled at the use of his last name. "My son is no traitor…he would not help her simply because she is our enemy. I believe he is merely…soft. He could not stand to see her suffering, and took pity on her."

But Voldemort's angry response wiped the smile from Lucius' face. "From what I have heard, your son has bullied countless students from school. He has never shown weakness in the face of suffering before." Voldemort turned to Draco. "There is something else, isn't there?"

Draco knew this was the time for him to reveal why he had been so nice to Ginny. The only problem was…he didn't know the answer himself. Constantly he had thought about it, wondering why he was helping her so much when she meant nothing to him, but every time he thought about it he began to reason that he shouldn't help her anymore, and then he would force himself to stop thinking about it for fear of logically reasoning to abandon her. Some great, strong part of him was compelled to help her…why?

When Draco didn't volunteer an answer, Voldemort spoke, in the cold, mocking voice he usually used when criticizing Muggles or other hateful things. "I do not think you merely went in there to feed her. You told me you had a physical interest in the girl…but it is much more than that. You are _in love with her_."

"No!" Draco shouted immediately, clenching his fists. "That's a lie!"

Voldemort smiled evilly. Draco realized he had just shouted at Lord Voldemort and quickly attempted to apologize. "I…I didn't mean to shout at…my Lord, I…you are wrong, my Lord," he said.

"Am I?" Voldemort asked. "Perhaps you do not want to admit it to yourself. Perhaps you are trying to hide, even from yourself, your obvious flaws…"

"No," Draco said, with slightly less force but just as much emotion as last time.

"Then what is the other reason?" Voldemort asked, and Draco saw one of his hands slip toward the place in his robes where his wand was.

"I…I do it because…because…" Draco's hands started shaking; he clenched his fists again to try to stop them. _Why do I help her?! WHAT IS THE REASON?!_

"Yes?" Voldemort asked.

"Because of her face," Draco stammered. He blinked afterward, surprised by what he had said.

Voldemort also looked surprised. "Her face? And what exactly do you mean by that?"

"I mean…I like it when…when I see the look on her face, when I give her the food."

Voldemort's smile turned to a look of disgust. "Well, it seems you were right, Malfoy…he is soft. Enjoy helping others, do you? Perhaps you should start a charity…"

"No!" Draco said, and he didn't care that he was shouting now. "It's not…it's not like that! I mean…the look on her face…it's like…" The meaning for all of his generosity began to dawn on him, and his mind grasped for the words to explain it. "It's like a house-elf," he said.

Now Voldemort looked confused. "A house-elf?"

"Yes, when you…when you give them something really important to do. They look at you like…like you mean so much to them, and…you know that they are really grateful, so grateful they can't even express it clearly, but you can feel it. Only with a person, it's much stronger."

Both Voldemort and Lucius continued to stare at Draco in confusion.

"I think it's also kind of instinctive," Draco said, now talking more to himself than to Voldemort. "The need for food. Ginny needs food…and I give it to her. I am the only thing that can give it to her. If I decide not to give her any, then she doesn't get any. And she knows it."

Lucius glanced at Voldemort, and was disturbed to see a bit of understanding on the Dark Lord's face.

"I remember when I got mad at her she started crying," Draco continued. "Because…she was so afraid what would happen if she lost me…because she's dependent on me…" And then he finally understood, and he stopped talking to himself and looked directly at Voldemort again. "Worship," he said. "It's like worship. Ginny almost worships me because she thinks I'm in control of her life, that I'm the only thing keeping her alive…and I like that feeling. Being worshipped. Having control over another person."

Lucius looked completely stunned; Voldemort stared at Draco in awe. The Dark Lord said, in a regretful voice Lucius had never heard before, "I was mistaken."

"It's all right," Draco said quickly. "I mean…I didn't really understand it myself, at first…until now."

"My Lord," Lucius said, looking outraged, "are you certain he is not lying?"

"Get out of here, _Lucius_," Voldemort said angrily.

Lucius blinked a couple times, then turned and walked out of the room.

"Your father is quite concerned about your status here," Voldemort said to Draco.

"What do you mean?"

"He knows that I like you, Malfoy. He suspects that I favor you over him. But he has one thing to reassure him; as you are, you can never be above him. You are not even a Death Eater."

Draco was completely surprised by this simple fact that had escaped him all this time. His father had intended to bring Draco into the other world with Voldemort as a preparation for his becoming a Death Eater, but Lucius had not known that they would be staying here so long. It now seemed obvious to Draco that he should probably be a Death Eater by now, after serving Voldemort all this time.

"Why is that, Lord?" Draco asked.

"You have proven yourself capable of many things…you have impressed me considerably. But in several areas I am not entirely certain of your abilities. For one thing, I have never tested your magical prowess. But more importantly, to become a Death Eater you must pass a very simple test—you must prove yourself able to kill another human being. Until you have done that, you cannot be a Death Eater."

"But my Lord," Draco said, frowning, "there are only four human beings in this whole tower, and I'm certainly not going to kill you or my father, and I can't kill the Weasley girl…"

"No, you cannot kill the prisoner."

"Then there's no way I can prove myself as long as I'm here!"

"There doesn't seem to be, does there?"

Draco sighed. "I…suppose I can wait, my Lord."

"Patience is important, Malfoy," Voldemort said, smiling. "It is one of the things that has allowed me to thrive where other Dark Lords failed."

"I see…thank you, my Lord," Draco said. Then he paused for a moment, and asked hesitantly, "Is it all right if I continue to feed the prisoner?"

"Sparingly," Voldemort said. "She must continue to feel the pain of constant hunger. And you must not tell her I am allowing you to do this."

"I wasn't going to," Draco said, and, smiling, he left.

_Remarkable boy,_ Voldemort thought, watching the door close behind Draco.

Draco did nothing of importance for several hours until later that day when he went to visit 

Ginny again, this time not bothering to stealthily conceal the food that he was bringing her until he was getting close to her room; he would have to pretend in front of her that he still wasn't allowed to bring her anything.

When he opened the door, Ginny looked very concerned; she waited until he had closed it behind him before speaking. "When you were leaving last time I heard an orc outside talking to you…what happened?"

"The Dark Lord wanted to see me…my father told him that I was bringing you food."

"How did he find out?!" Ginny asked, alarmed.

"I don't know…but I…I convinced the Dark Lord that it was a lie."

"Didn't he read your mind?"

"I sort of…blocked it, I guess. At any rate, he believed me."

"You lied to him," Ginny whispered. "You lied to Lord Voldemort."

"Yes."

"He could kill you if he finds out."

Draco shrugged. "I guess."

"You're risking your life for me…every time you bring me food you're risking your life for me."

Ginny was staring at him, and there was that look on her face that Draco had tried so hard to describe to Voldemort earlier, that look that was almost like worship. A wonderful feeling of power and control began to fill Draco, and he actually smiled without realizing it.

Ginny was surprised by the smile, and she smiled back—not with her usual small, shy smile, but a full-on, wide, happy smile. For the first time Draco thought she looked beautiful; beautiful, despite her sunken and dirty face, her pale skin, her ragged hair, and all the other signs of her long-term torture.

"Thank you, Draco Malfoy, for saving my life," Ginny said quietly.

Draco had this sudden compulsion to reach out and touch her, but he stopped himself, and shrugged again. "What else have I got to do around here?"

Ginny suddenly looked serious, and Draco thought she had taken offense at the joke, but then she said, "You could be hurting me…like Tom hurts me, like your father nearly did…"

Draco shook his head, and then, not really knowing what to say, reached into his robes and 

pulled out the food he had brought for her.

"Here," he said. "Eat this."

That look of absolute gratitude came onto her face again, and Draco stared at her face intently while she ate. Apparently she noticed, because when she was done eating she glanced up at him and asked, "What is it?"

"Nothing," Draco said quickly, knowing he could never explain it to her. "I have to go…"

"Of course," Ginny said, and now Draco saw the pain in her eyes as she realized that he would have to go now, and there was nothing she could do about it. That he had the power to make her so happy at his arrival, and so upset at his departure, was amazing to Draco.

But as he walked out of the room, the amazement he had felt at the recognition of his true feelings faded, and he remembered Ginny's smile. After overwhelmingly believing everything he had told Voldemort, now a tiny doubt began to grow inside of him, whispering the same question Voldemort had asked of him earlier: _What is the other reason?_


	26. Chapter 26: Difference of Opinion

Chapter 26

Difference of Opinion

"Sirius…_Sirius_!"

Sirius' eyes snapped open, and his heavy breathing eventually calmed, but Éowyn still had a look of shock on her face.

Sirius was about to mutter an apology when he realized he was in dog form. He had a vague recollection of screaming in his dream; he could only imagine what sounds the dog had been making.

"Are you well?" Éowyn asked concernedly.

Sirius nodded, but Éowyn looked unconvinced. Sirius knew he had to transfigure and explain before she was satisfied, although he didn't know for sure why. He thought it was obvious the only thing bothering him was a nightmare…if it could be called that.

Right when Sirius had escaped from Azkaban, he was able to lock away the memories of his eleven years in prison into a part of his mind he couldn't access consciously, a forced repression that was a form of Occlumency. Since then, he had no memory of Azkaban but vague shadows and a lingering fear; his irritability and often pessimistic attitude were the results of the consequences and the circumstances surrounding his imprisonment, but not the actual jail time itself.

Sirius had never told anyone about these repressed memories, not even Harry or Dumbledore; instead, he created false memories of himself escaping Azkaban by turning into a dog and eluding the dementors. In truth, he didn't know how he had really escaped; all he knew was that he found himself one night standing not in prison but in a dark forest, with a vague memory of blocking other memories and a newspaper clipping with a picture of a rat he immediately recognized as Peter Pettigrew. He long pondered how he had managed to get out of Azkaban, but learning there was no mass breakout he reasoned he could only have escaped with an ability he alone among the prisoners possessed, and immediately assumed it was because he was an Animagus. Years later, after doing some research on dementors and discovering their effects were different concerning animals, he would come to same conclusion.

Some days he actually forgot that he had blocked the truth, but mornings like this reminded him. While the memories could not be accessed by the conscious mind, they sometimes crept into his subconscious and haunted his dreams. This always left him with a terrible fear, not of a nightmare he couldn't remember, but of a horrific reality—that if he dreamt about the old memories, he might suddenly remember them.

Sirius wasn't sure exactly why he had blocked his time in Azkaban, but he believed he had done it to save his sanity, and feared that if any of those hidden memories resurfaced, he could become completely unstable; he had heard of men and women going insane after only a few weeks in that prison. And so he liked to think of Azkaban and the eleven years he had lost as little as possible.

He certainly could not explain the complicated situation to Éowyn as she sat there, waiting for verbal confirmation that he was well. Again Sirius wondered why a simple nod would not suffice, and then figured he knew the reason.

For the six days she had known his true identity, Éowyn had treated Sirius with nothing but complete kindness and curiosity, and Sirius had treated her with nothing at all. Remaining in dog form because he claimed transforming hurt him (which was partially true), Sirius usually either slept or pretended to sleep. His brief conversation with Théodred had seemed to confirm that he was doing the right thing.

Sirius thought he had a very simple reason for his less-than-friendly behavior—he didn't want to become too attached to Éowyn and forget about his other friends who could be in danger. But the definition of "too attached" began to change as the days passed. He started off admiring her, but his liking for her grew as he learned more about her through conversations he overheard her having with other people like Théodred.

Sirius also (although he didn't like admitting it to himself) found her extremely attractive; she was surely one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. This obviously didn't bother him as a dog, which was perhaps another reason why he so disliked transfiguring back into a human. Except for a few one-night-stands with Muggle women, Sirius hadn't been involved with a woman since his escape from Azkaban, and hadn't been in love with one since long before his imprisonment. He feared this long streak might end, and didn't want Éowyn to suffer having a strange old man who was in love with her sleep next to her bed every night.

Sirius' long ruminations served to deepen Éowyn's frown and further necessitate his verbal explanation. He transformed, noticing the pain was somewhat less this time, and said, "Bad dream."

He hoped this would end all discussion and he could return to being a dog; Éowyn was kneeling on the floor rather closer to him than he would have liked, and he casually sat back against the wall a little farther from her.

But Éowyn was still worried. "A dream? Did it carry evil omens?"

"No, not like that," Sirius said quickly, feeling a chill and a strong desire to change the subject. "It was a stupid dream…"

He glanced around and comprehended for the first time that it was morning, and Éowyn was already dressed; his nightmare hadn't awoken her.

"It did not appear that way to me," Éowyn said. "I could almost…"

Suddenly, the door opened. Sirius was frozen with shock; someone was standing in the doorway, staring at him, at the right now very human man…

"What are you doing?"

The question was asked not with alarm, but confusion, as Théodred stared down at Éowyn and Sirius sitting on the floor.

"Close the door!" Éowyn cried, quickly standing up; Théodred closed it, then looked over at Sirius.

"I…I just woke up," Sirius said lamely, to Théodred's questioning stare. For some reason this seemed to satisfy him, and he turned to Éowyn. For the first time Sirius noticed that he was holding something behind his back.

"I have errands to run, but I thought I would come here to bring you something first," he said, smiling at his cousin.

"What is it?" Éowyn asked excitedly.

Théodred pulled from behind his back a sword.

"Oh, Théodred!" Éowyn cried, rushing up to him. Sirius thought this rather odd, considering Théodred had a sword out, but he held it off to the side as he pulled her into a one-armed hug.

"This one is much sturdier than the last, with excellent balance and a fine edge," Théodred said, now showing the sword to her. "I of course told the smith it was for me…"

"Thank you," Éowyn said, taking the sword in both hands. It looked quite heavy, but Éowyn lifted it easily. "I cannot thank you enough…"

"No need," Théodred said, grinning. "Your smile is always thanks enough, my cousin."

"My dear friend," Éowyn added, smiling back, and he left the room. Éowyn then turned back to Sirius, who was just about to transfigure. "Isn't it beautiful?" she asked excitedly.

"I suppose," Sirius said.

"I have been so long without a sword to practice with…perhaps when you are well, we can spar together!"

"When I'm well, I'm leaving," Sirius said, not realizing how rude this must have sounded until he saw the disappointed look on Éowyn's face. "I mean…I'm not very good with a sword anyway, you wouldn't want to spar with me…"

"It is odd, I imagined you as a great swordsman," Éowyn said, and she transferred the sword into her right hand and started swinging it experimentally.

Sirius was shocked by her strength, and apparently the shock showed on his face because then Éowyn said, "I know how surprising it must be to you…a woman like me, playing with swords."

"Not at all," Sirius said, smiling. "I think I've been around you long enough to learn that surprises are to be expected."

"Perhaps you know me better even than my own brother. Éomer would be furious if he learned of my true ambitions…his intention, like my uncle's, is for me to marry some rich prince in a distant land and bear fine children…" Éowyn paused, and her face lit up with a beautiful glow, her eyes sparkling, as she said, "If only he knew my true dreams…dreams of riding into battle, a fine sword in one hand, a spear in the other…or perhaps running, screaming war cries, slashing away at every opponent, fitting their heads to my spears, hearing them shriek as my hands become sticky with their blood, as I take away their undeserved lives…and then my death, a glorious death, a death to be sung about for the ages!"

Sirius, who had been smiling at the beginning of her monologue, was now staring at her open-mouthed with raised eyebrows.

"You think I am mad," Éowyn said, her smile faltering.

"No," Sirius said quickly, doubting his own response. "I just think…well…it's all right to dream about these things, as long as you don't…you know…actually believe them."

Éowyn's eyes narrowed angrily. "You would have me waste away in some distant castle, only to be remembered as the wife or mother of some famous king?"

"I would want you to live a long life," Sirius explained. "I wouldn't want you to die so young in battle."

"But those who perish in battle never die! They are immortalized by their glory!"

All this talk of glory and death made Sirius suddenly wonder about his own eventual fate. With a tightening in his chest he realized that he would always be remembered, throughout history, as the infamous murderer, the ultimate traitor, the right-hand-man to Lord Voldemort.

Éowyn, yet again demonstrating her ability to determine his thoughts from a slight expression, asked, "Are you bothered?"

"I'm fine," Sirius said. "I…I'd just rather we not talk about dying."

"So you do want to talk."

"What do you mean?"

"Forgive me if I am incorrect, but…I was rather under the impression that you…disliked me. Oh, I do not mean you had any negative feelings toward me, simply that…you did not enjoy conversation. You seem to avoid it. I am sure you have your reasons…I do not know what they are, but…"

"I'm sorry," Sirius interrupted. "I know I've been really closed off…I know I've been living here in your room, learning everything about you, and you know next to nothing about me…and it's not that I don't like talking to you…I'm sorry."

"Are you willing to change things, then?" Éowyn asked.

Sirius hesitated. Éowyn said seriously, "You are afraid I am going to learn something…you are trying to hide something from me."

Sirius almost laughed. He knew she was envisioning some dark secret, while in reality the main thing he was worried about revealing were his feelings for her. Compelled to be at least partly honest with Éowyn, and cross the line of friendship he had initially stayed away from, Sirius said, "I don't want to hide anything from you…and I want to talk to you more, and…maybe…become friends."

Éowyn's beautiful smile at these words melted the walls around Sirius' heart, and he could no longer caution against or deny what he was feeling. For better or worse, the streak had been broken—Sirius was madly in love with Éowyn.

* * *

"This is it," Gandalf said, smiling as he stared around him.

The rest of the Fellowship also glanced around; the surrounding area appeared no different than the land they had been traveling through for days.

"This is Hollin," Gimli explained to those who seemed confused about what Gandalf meant. "It was once a land of…" he paused and, glancing distastefully at Legolas, said, "_elves_."

"My people left here long ago," Legolas said sadly, kneeling on the ground and running his hand along the grass. "The stones still lament their passing."

"The stones lament?" Ron repeated to Harry and Hermione, but was mostly looking at Hermione. "Hears rocks in his head, does he? I tell you, he's a…"

"He's being poetic, Ron," Hermione said huffily, and she angrily marched over to Legolas' side and started talking to him.

Ron's eyes narrowed angrily. Legolas and Hermione had been spending a lot more time together lately, and whenever she was with the elf Ron's attitude worsened.

Unfortunately for Ron, Gandalf and Aragorn decided to stop for a while, saying they all needed rest. This prompted Hermione and Legolas to begin something that infuriated Ron even more than their talking—archery practice.

Hermione was actually quite good with a bow. She explained to Harry (Ron wouldn't listen) that she used to take archery lessons during the summer before she had gone to Hogwarts; Harry was surprised at how young she had been when she had learned to use the weapon, and how good she still was after being out of practice for so long. He overheard Legolas comment that her skills were almost elf-like; the way Ron clenched his fists after he said it made Harry sure that Ron was listening, too.

For this lesson Hermione suggested that she and Legolas walk a little ways away from the main Fellowship. Legolas agreed, and as they walked off together Ron tried to hurry after them, but Harry held him back. He was sure Hermione had left with the single purpose of getting away from Ron.

He was wrong. Ever since their conversation with Dumbledore about Aragorn, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had been searching for clues, as though hoping to unmask some hidden conspiracy. Hermione stood by Dumbledore and focused her efforts on exposing Aragorn, but Harry and Ron were more concerned with Dumbledore's obvious lie about "sensing" evil and wanted to discover whatever he was hiding.

And so, once Legolas and Hermione were a short distance from the camp, she asked Legolas, "How well do you know Aragorn?"

"He is a friend," Legolas said vaguely.

"Have you noticed him acting rather odd lately?" Hermione asked casually.

"What do you mean?" Legolas asked, and Hermione thought there was more alarm in his voice than what would usually accompany such an innocent question.

"I don't know…he just seems a little…different, that's all. From when I first met him, I mean."

"In what way is he different?"

Hermione could tell Legolas was very interested, and she was certain he was probably suspicious too. "He just doesn't act the way he did when I first met him. It's like his personality is changing, or something."

Legolas was silent for a while, and then he said, "He is under much stress, as are we all. I am not surprised his mood has been changing."

But Legolas' expressions indicated that he had indeed been surprised by Hermione's observations. _He suspects something's wrong, too, but he won't tell me any more about it,_ Hermione thought. _How can I get him to reveal what he knows?_

And then a thought occurred to her. "His ring," she said.

"Aragorn's ring?" Legolas asked; there had been a long pause, and he wasn't sure she was still talking about the same thing.

"Yes…did he always have that ring, or is it…new?"

Legolas seemed almost uneasy for a moment, but then said, "That ring is much older than I. It is the Ring of Barahir, and it has been passed down the ages. Isildur himself once wore it, before a very different kind of ring took his mind. The Ring of Barahir marks Aragorn as Gondor's true heir."

"You're sure?" Hermione asked.

"What would lead you to believe that it was not?"

"I just…thought I saw the same design somewhere else, that's all."

"That is unlikely. It is of elvish make. Perhaps you saw the design in a book in Rivendell, where the ring was once kept, but I can think of no other place."

The news that the ring was elf-made discouraged all thoughts Hermione had about it relating to Voldemort. She decided she would relay this information to Dumbledore.

"You are most interested in Aragorn," Legolas said. Hermione almost took this statement the wrong way at first, but then realized he was just referring to her number of questions about him.

Hermione hesitated; she didn't want to become more distant from Legolas because of this. Then an idea struck her, and she said, "Oh, not really…it's just that Ron has been…well…_he's_ the one convinced there's something wrong with Aragorn, and he's been annoying me about it…I really shouldn't have bothered you with it at all."

"That is all right," Legolas said, smiling. Hermione smiled back. Legolas had learned quickly that Ron strongly disliked him, and the elf had developed a low opinion of him. He believed Hermione as easily as she had hoped he would.

"Would you care to begin?" Legolas asked, holding out his bow to her.

"Oh, of course!" Hermione said. She graciously accepted the bow, then held out her hand to receive an arrow, but Legolas was no longer looking at her; his eyes were turned skyward, and he was frowning.

"Is something wrong?" Hermione asked, and she traced his gaze to a dark cloud in the distance. "Does that mean a storm is coming?"

"It may," Legolas said quietly, but he turned and hurried back to where the rest of the Fellowship was gathered, Hermione close behind.

"Gandalf, what do you make of that?" Legolas asked the wizard, pointing at the black smudge in the sky.

Gandalf squinted at it. "It appears to be a storm cloud…"

"It approaches very rapidly," Legolas said warily.

Aragorn, who had been listening to their dialogue, rose from where he had been seated. "I fear that is no cloud…we must hide, at once!"

Gandalf was not certain if Aragorn was correct, but was not willing to risk inaction if Aragorn's fear was true. He immediately spread the word to the rest of the Fellowship, and they hid behind the large stones Legolas had previously claimed were communicating with him.

As the black mass came nearer, it was clear that it was no storm cloud. It suddenly dispersed into dozens of small shapes, which flew in different directions, swooping and circling.

After a couple minutes, the birds had flown far enough away for Gandalf to declare that they were safe enough to discontinue hiding.

"Bloody hell!" Ron cried, peering off at the birds flying away in the distance. "What was all that about?"

"Those were _crebain_," Aragorn said grimly. "They are spies of the enemy, most likely sent by Saruman."

"We must depart at once," Gandalf said. "Hollin is not as safe as I had hoped."

"And where shall we go?" Dumbledore asked curiously.

"There will be no change in plan," Aragorn said firmly. "We must pass through the Redhorn Gate. It is for Caradhras that we set out."

"If Hollin is watched, no doubt the Redhorn Gate is also," Gandalf pointed out.

"There is no other safe path," Aragorn said. "The Gap of Rohan is too far southward, and I fear the people of Rohan may be allied with their neighbor Isengard."

"There is another way," Gimli said. "The Mines of Moria, where my kin shall…"

"Your kin may be dead," Aragorn interrupted sharply. Gimli glowered at him; even Gandalf seemed surprised by this angry outburst.

"I am rather more concerned about the weather than those birds," Dumbledore said, after a brief silence. "Even from here it is quite clear that the mountain peaks are white with snow."

"Moria is likely overrun by goblins," Aragorn said.

"Even so, I have more faith in the sharpness of our swords than the warmth of our coats," Dumbledore said.

Aragorn was momentarily silenced by this statement, and Harry found himself smiling at Dumbledore's victory. Then Harry became rather ashamed that he had been so concerned with Dumbledore's honesty, when in this case it was clearly Aragorn who was at fault. Perhaps Hermione had been correct in focusing on Aragorn's suspicious behavior rather than Dumbledore's lie.

But Dumbledore had not won. Gandalf spoke now, and he said, "I agree with Aragorn. The danger of the mountaintop is much less than the unknown horrors which may lurk beneath it. We shall continue heading for the Redhorn Gate, as planned…" Gandalf paused and looked at Dumbledore. "If Dumbledore is correct, and the weather is more brutal than expected, we can debate this further, but otherwise there is no reason to assume Caradhras will not allow us to pass."


	27. Chapter 27: Insight with Intoxication

Chapter 27

Insight with Intoxication

"How far?"

Tonks hesitated. She had been anticipating this question eventually, but had hoped she wouldn't have to disappoint Dahrik so early on their journey. She couldn't remember how many days ago it had been that she, Sirius, and Lupin had set out from the white tree; she couldn't even remember the exact direction of their journey, since much of it had been spent following Bill Ferny.

"I don't know," she said finally, then added, "it's…it's far."

Dahrik nodded a little uneasily. Tonks understood his discomfort; he was traveling into unknown territory. She was even more familiar with this part of Middle-earth than he was.

"But we'll make it in time," she said confidently. "Moony will be okay."

Tonks continued marching forward at a fast pace. As desperately as she wanted to return home, she couldn't think of it that way; she would be needed to lead the Order members back here when they came to help Lupin. Her stay in her home world would be very brief.

"Tonks," Dahrik said suddenly, and she looked over at him, but he was looking behind them. She turned around as saw a small dust cloud growing larger as it approached them.

"What is that?" she asked.

"Horse," Dahrik said, putting a hand on his weapon.

"Two horses," Tonks added, squinting.

Tonks frowned as the horses came closer, until she could see that the man riding on the left one was definitely Haradrim, the horses being two of the few wild ones the army had been able to tame. Dahrik released his hand from his sword, and both were shocked when the horses stopped right next to them; the right one had no rider, but on the left one was Nurza, holding the reins of both.

"Tonks," Nurza said breathlessly, "Lupin has lied to you."

Tonks blinked. "Wh…what? What do you mean?"

"He has told you to go and find help for his leg, but he has told the healers to cut it off."

"_What_?! Why would he do that?!"

"You must come," Nurza said, looking very concerned, and he gestured to the horse on his left.

"Okay," Tonks said; she had had enough riding experience on their initial trip to Isengard not to worry.

"I am walking to camp," Dahrik said, and Tonks didn't argue; she was too concerned about Lupin to worry about how Dahrik would get back alone.

Nurza and Tonks rode back to camp in significantly less time than it had taken Tonks to march away from it. They did not speak while they were riding, but once they dismounted and started heading for the healing tent, Tonks addressed Nurza. "How did you find out?"

"I am Spirit Man, and I must pray when the healers do something dangerous," Nurza said. "They asked me to pray for Lupin's leg, and I was surprised, because they said he changed his mind. So I come to tell you, because you are his wife."

"Thank you," Tonks said.

As they approached the tent, Tonks could hear a loud chatter of voices speaking Haradrim, and what she thought was cheering. For a moment, it lightened her mood, but her face went ashen when she entered.

Several healers rushed up to Nurza and chattered excitedly, but Tonks' eyes were focused only on Lupin. He was lying on a mat, apparently quite conscious, while one healer was wrapping a bandage around the stump of his leg that remained. It appeared that it had been cut off just above the knee.

"Oh my God," Tonks whispered, and her eyes filled with tears.

But even Nurza couldn't understand her horror. "It is a miracle," he said, smiling. "He is not dead! Your Lupin is very strong."

Tonks approached the side of the mat and knelt down next to Lupin, who was staring at the roof of the tent and blinking, clearly awake.

"Moony?" she said hesitantly; Lupin had a blank look on his face. "M…er…Remus? Are you all right?"

"Lily?" he said suddenly, and he turned his head and looked at her, his eyes unfocused.

"It's Tonks," she said quickly. _He must be delirious…didn't they give him something for the pain?_

"Oh, hello," Lupin said, smiling now.

"Why…why did you do this?" she asked, trying not to show her tears. "You said you would wait for me…"

"Do what?" Lupin asked, frowning.

"Your leg…"

"Leg? What leg? What are you talking about? Five points from Gryffindor." Lupin looked back up at the roof of the tent.

Tonks stared at him in complete shock; then Nurza approached from behind. "He is not himself, from the medicine," he explained.

"Medicine?" Tonks repeated, looking up at him.

"He is…" Nurza paused, trying to think of the word. "He is drunk. For less pain."

Tonks looked back at Lupin. "You said he would be all right?"

"That is what the healers say."

"I just…I don't understand why he would do this…why would he lie to me? He must've just wanted to drive me away…but why? Why couldn't he tell me what was going on? Why doesn't he trust me, after we've been here in this world for so…" Tonks stopped suddenly.

"What is it?" Nurza asked.

"But it…it couldn't have been _that_ long ago…could it?"

"What?"

Tonks hesitated. "Nurza…do you know when the next full moon is?"

"Yes, it is the day before the celebration, but…that is a concern for a Spirit Man, not you."

"It is a concern for me…the celebration…that's in four days…but then the full moon is in three days…he must've wanted me to get out of here before the next full moon…but why cut his leg off? Maybe he thought a three-legged wolf would be less dangerous…or maybe…" Tonks' eyes widened. "Maybe he thought he would die in the operation, and then he couldn't be a threat anymore…"

"Threat?" Nurza repeated.

Tonks hesitated again. She remembered thinking that Lupin would be healed before the next full moon, and they would be gone, but it was clear that with a recently amputated leg Lupin wasn't about to go anywhere. Lupin most likely wanted to die rather than threaten the people who had saved him, but Tonks wasn't considering that as an option. She had to tell Nurza, and come up with a solution.

There were other healers in the tent looking at her curiously, but she knew none of them could understand her language. Tonks faced Nurza and said, "Lupin isn't what he seems."

"What do you mean?" Nurza asked curiously.

"I mean he's normal, but…but every full moon…" Tonks paused. "Every full moon an evil spirit takes control of him, and he turns into a wolf, and he…he kills people."

Nurza's eyes widened. "Gaurhoth?" he whispered.

"What?" Tonks asked.

Nurza shook his head. "This is evil magic…"

"But Lupin isn't evil! He was bitten by an evil werewolf, and he became one, it isn't his fault…and he doesn't mean to kill anyone!"

Nurza frowned. "But he allows the evil spirit to control him."

"No, he doesn't allow it! He can't help it! It's like…" Tonks paused and waved her arms at Lupin. "It's like he's drunk, he can't control his actions!"

"How do you stop it?"

Tonks sighed. "There's…there is a way, but…it's back where I come from…it's far away. We don't have access to it. There is no way to stop it…and…" Tonks paused, and then said quietly, "and during the last full moon, Lupin killed our best friend."

Nurza's eyes now filled with sympathy. "I knew he was a very sad man, but he did not tell me why he was so sad. Now I know. I am very sorry, Tonks."

"I don't know what to do," Tonks said, looking back down at Lupin. "I…I'm not just going to let him die, but…I don't know how to stop it…"

"You said there is a way, but it is far away. What is it?"

"It…it's a potion, but the ingredients don't grow in this w…in this area…"

"What is the purpose of the potion?"

"It lets the human part of his mind have control even when he turns into a wolf."

"But you said the wolf was an evil spirit, and it took over him."

"It…I didn't explain it well…" Tonks sighed. "They're always both there…the wolf and the human. They're always both in his mind. But almost all the time the human is the one who is in control. Only on the full moon, it changes, so that when his body turns into a wolf, the wolf is in control. When he drinks the potion, the human is in control even though he still turns into a wolf."

"So…they are one mind."

"Yes. All that matters is which one is in control."

"And if the wolf and the human are both not in control?"

"What?"

"If something else is in control, what happens?"

"Something else? What do you mean?"

"What if it is full moon now?" Nurza asked, gesturing to the drunk Lupin.

Tonks frowned. "Well…well I guess the wolf would…I guess it would be affected just like the human mind is…"

"The wolf and the human are not in control," Nurza said, nodding.

"So you're saying…you're saying we get Lupin drunk right before the full moon, and then the wolf will be drunk too, and it won't be able to attack us?" Tonks said, marveling at the ridiculous and yet intriguing idea.

Nurza shrugged. "You know more about this evil spirit than I."

Tonks slowly nodded. "We should tie Lupin up, at least, and put armed guards on him…and the wolf wouldn't be able to think straight, it wouldn't know how to get out…"

"I have plants that I use as Spirit Man. They are very powerful. They will…they will confuse him."

"It's the same body…the same mind, the same bloodstream…this should work!"

Tonks smiled down at Lupin, who had long since closed his eyes and gone to sleep. When she saw his missing leg, however, her smile faded. "I won't let anything else bad happen to you," she whispered. "And once you wake up, I'll explain everything…and we're doing this whether you like it or not…"

As she rethought the plan in her head, Tonks figured that the odds of Lupin liking the plan were probably even less than the odds that it would work.

_We'll just have to see what happens…_

* * *

Draco Malfoy broke off a small piece of the bread and nibbled on it before putting the main chunk back in his pocket as he headed for Ginny's room. As he approached the door, however, he knew something was wrong; there was shouting coming from inside.

Draco hesitated outside the door. If Voldemort was in there, he dared not interfere. But at a closer range, he determined the source of the shouting to be his father.

Draco burst open the door and rushed inside. He found Ginny standing defiantly against the far wall while Lucius, his back to Draco, hovered in front of her.

"I don't want to hurt you," Lucius said, reaching out a hand toward her.

"Get away from me!" Ginny shouted, and then she caught sight of Draco over Lucius' shoulder.

"Father!" Draco shouted angrily.

Lucius slowly turned around. Draco was appalled by the state of him; it was clear by his face and his uncertain steps that he was drunk.

"What do you want, boy?" Lucius sneered, and even from the other side of the room Draco could smell the awful stench of alcohol.

"No, don't tell me," Lucius said suddenly. "You're here to see her, aren't you? Then we're here for the same reason."

"Not the same reason," Draco said, clenching his fists. "Get out of here."

"Tell her why we're here," Lucius said, turning back to Ginny. "Tell her we don't want to hurt her…"

"I don't know what you want," Draco said quietly.

"I want the same thing you do, my son…I want to stand in the light."

Draco stared at him strangely. Ginny still looked terrified.

"Get away from her," Draco said, but with less force than last time.

"We're not doing any harm, are we?" Lucius asked Ginny. "We just want the light…"

"You're mad," Ginny whispered.

Draco grabbed his father's arm before he could touch Ginny again.

"Come with me," he said, pulling his father away.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Come on!" Draco shouted. He pulled his father out of Ginny's room and then dragged him all the way back to Lucius' own room. Then Draco pushed Lucius, and his father fell backward onto his bed.

"Get some sleep," Draco said disgustedly.

"You don't understand, do you? You think I'm crazy."

"I think you drank too much of…of something, I don't even know what…"

"Why do you go after her? Why are you always in her room all the time?"

"I'm not in her room all the time!"

"But something keeps drawing you back there, and you don't know what it is."

Draco hesitated. He was certain his father was not in his right mind, but his last sentence was very true.

"You think _you_ know?" Draco asked.

"I do know," Lucius said, sitting up and looking at Draco hauntingly. "It's the light. This whole place is darkness. Even the fires are like…like reflections. Evil is everywhere…this place is evil, evil in its purest form. And everything in it is evil, except for the girl. She's the light. She's…innocent. Immune to it all. Not like you and I. We feel it. We breathe it. It writhes inside of us…it tries to master us. But we fear it. We flee from it…we flee to the light. To _her_."

Draco stared at him with a look of total shock. "But…but what about the Dark Lord, what about…"

"The Dark Lord!" Lucius interrupted with a cackle. "He's right at home here, isn't he? Oh, the evil doesn't bother him, he had enough of it in him before. But not us. We're not…we're not _evil_, Draco, not really. Selfishness…that's what I'm guilty of."

Lucius stumbled to his feet and looked Draco squarely in the eyes. "Do you think I _like_ torturing Muggles? You think I enjoy killing people?! It's madness, that's what it is! Muggles are inferior, yes, but you wouldn't slaughter dogs and cats, would you? I do what the Dark Lord demands, because…because my family, my name, I want to be important, I want to feel important…"

"Father," Draco started, but he honestly didn't know what to say. He had never heard his father speak like this before.

"There's Dark Magic here," Lucius said, looking around. "Ancient Dark Magic. And it's inside of us, trying to take control of us…and she's the only thing that can relieve us from it. Tell the Dark Lord what you will, but I know why you're so drawn to the girl."

Draco stared at his father for a moment, then turned and left the room. He stalled outside, to see if Lucius would come out after him, but he didn't. Then Draco turned and went back to his own room, reflecting on what his father had said, and forgetting about the food he had meant to bring to Ginny.


	28. Chapter 28: Feelings Revealed

Chapter 28

Feelings Revealed

The mountains were close now, and with every hour that passed Harry could not believe they had not yet reached Caradhras' base. Throughout the day he began to feel more fatigued than usual, and regretted that once they did reach the looming mountain the journey would only become more difficult.

Two people who did not appear the least bit tired were Hermione and Legolas. Harry began to notice that along with bow skills Legolas had also started teaching Hermione some words in his native elven language. As usual, Hermione learned quickly, and seemed to take every opportunity to discuss the beauty of Legolas' language with Ron. Ron, who likely feared Hermione and Legolas would begin having their private conversations in a language he wouldn't be able to overhear, complained to Harry and demanded that he do something about her obsession with elves.

Harry hated getting in the middle of things, but Hermione's constant flaunting of her new elven tricks was becoming annoying even to Harry, without the added factor of having Ron complain about it. And so Harry decided to have a talk with his friend.

"So…you've been learning a lot of elf stuff," Harry said, wanting to get right to the point without immediately offending her.

"Oh, yes, it's quite fascinating," Hermione said, her eyes sparkling. "Legolas has taught me so much…"

"Yeah, well…I just wanted to let you know that…erm…Ron is…well…I don't think he appreciates it very much, when you babble about all this elf stuff to him."

"What do you mean, he doesn't appreciate it?"

"I mean it…it annoys him."

"Good," Hermione mumbled.

"_Good_?" Harry repeated.

"I don't mean it that way…I just mean…it's good if he's annoyed every once in a while, that's all."

"What?! Why? What has he done to you?"

"Nothing!"

Hermione said this rather fiercely, causing Gimli, the closest Fellowship member, to glance over his shoulder before facing forward and marching a bit faster.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, a little more calmly.

"I mean that he doesn't treat me with any respect at all."

"He's _Ron_. You've known him for five years. He's not always polite to you, but you're still his friend. Ron isn't very polite to anyone."

"I know that…but he's always…I just wish he wouldn't…"

"Wouldn't spy on you all the time?"

"No, I wish he wouldn't ignore me."

"Ignore you?" Harry said incredulously. "All he can talk about is you!"

"I know, but that's because I force him to. Ron only pays attention to me when I'm paying attention to someone else."

"Well, you know Ron…he's the jealous type."

Hermione glanced at Harry, her eyebrows raised slightly.

"I don't mean he's…I don't mean he _fancies_ you," Harry said quickly, and was surprised when Hermione suddenly looked away, blushing slightly. "You…you _want_ him to fancy you?"

"I just want him to notice me. Last year he didn't even notice me until I went out with Viktor. And…" Hermione lowered her voice. "And if Ron had asked me first…well…things might have gone differently."

Harry stood there, overwhelmed by this news. "But…but you and Ron…I mean you never…"

"I've only given about a hundred clues," Hermione snapped. "You boys are so thick sometimes…"

"But I thought you…and Legolas…"

"Legolas is just a friend. Besides, he's practically five hundred times my age."

"I just never knew…about Ron…what am I going to tell him?"

Hermione's eyes widened. "_Tell_ him?! You can't tell him!"

"But…"

"Harry, please, don't tell him. I really think this is going to work."

"What is going to work?"

"Eventually Ron will become so jealous of Legolas he'll pluck up the courage to have a serious talk with me."

"Or maybe he'll give up on you because of Legolas."

"I don't think so."

"Hermione…"

"Harry, you have never had a proper girlfriend, so don't pretend you know anything!" Hermione snapped angrily.

Harry sighed, deciding he'd best leave the situation in Hermione's hands. He quickened his step to catch up with a different part of the group that was further on, deciding to talk to some of the hobbits to get his mind off of Hermione and the unbelievable feelings she had just revealed.

----------------------------------------

"May I come in?"

Had anyone else been behind Théodred, he certainly would not have asked that question; requesting entrance to a seemingly empty room with only Éowyn's pet dog inside would have seemed very silly to his companion. And so although Sirius could not visually tell if Théodred was alone, he risked nodding in reply to the prince's question.

Théodred entered the room. Sirius was surprised to see him; he only spoken to Théodred once, several days ago, when Théodred had warned Sirius not to harm Éowyn.

"Good evening," Théodred said. "I…would like to speak with you."

Sirius took this as a request for him to transform, and quickly did so.

"You look better," Théodred said.

"Yeah," Sirius said. Éowyn had made the very same comment to him, but it did not mean very much. It was his leg, not the scratches on his face and arms, that was keeping him from seeking Lupin and Tonks.

"I still have no news of your friends," Théodred said, noticing Sirius' eager expression, which quickly faded. "I came to speak to you about Éowyn."

Sirius hesitated. He feared Théodred somehow knew, had somehow determined, how much in love with her Sirius really was, and considered it a danger. "Er…all right."

"I just wanted to say…thank you."

Sirius blinked. "For what?"

"For talking to her…for being her friend in this time of need."

"Time of need?" Sirius repeated, frowning.

"Surely you know how greatly Éowyn has been suffering?"

Sirius stared dumbly at Théodred. Éowyn had always seemed quite happy whenever she spoke to Sirius; she never looked ill, physically or mentally.

"It is my father," Théodred said, his voice a little quieter. "He is…he is not well…at the moment."

Éowyn had occasionally mentioned the king's illness in passing, but never spoke directly to Sirius about it.

"I'm sorry," Sirius said, deciding this was appropriate.

Théodred nodded, then said, a little more hastily than his usual pace of speaking, "My father is very important, of course, being king, and thus his duties must remain attended to…Éomer and I have taken over his royal responsibilities. Éowyn's task is much more difficult…" Théodred paused. "She must tend to the king. All day she brings him food and medicine, she sits with him…I know it is very hard for her. She is…she is not as confident as I am in his strong health, which will surely promise a recovery soon."

Sirius had never seen the king, and therefore did not see fit to address Théodred's clear denial of the reality of the situation. To help take Théodred's mind off of it, he said, "I appreciate you telling me that…I had no idea. She always seems fine around me."

"That is because she is with a friend," Théodred said, with a slight smile now. "She is that way with me also, but I am so often busy, and cannot entertain her all through the night as you can."

Sirius shifted his weight slightly, his mind briefly distracted. "Right…"

"What sort of things do you discuss?" Théodred asked curiously.

Sirius saw no ill intent in the question, and so responded, "Nothing really important…I do a lot of the talking. I tell her stories about where I come from. Sometimes she tells me things about Rohan."

"Has she spoken at all of marriage?"

Sirius blinked. "Marriage?"

"Yes…Éomer is rather…discontented that she has not yet chosen a husband."

For a moment Sirius thought Théodred was suggesting Éowyn marry _him_, but realized how ludicrous this would be. "She hasn't mentioned it."

"You would do well to ask her of it, then. I know how she dislikes the idea…perhaps you can give her some advice. I am sure she values your opinion."

"Yeah…okay."

"Thank you," Théodred said, and he left.

From the moment Théodred left to the moment Éowyn came in for the night, Sirius could not stop thinking about Éowyn getting married. His imagination created a many suitors, all of them rich kings or princes, and all of them distasteful in some way. In his mind he saw Éowyn forcing a smile while a fat old king waddled his way over to her and nodded approvingly at her youth and beauty, sending ripples down a lumpy double chin. His anger steadily rose.

Sirius hated to bring up a topic Éowyn probably wouldn't like, especially after receiving Théodred's gratitude for keeping her happy, but he wanted to be sure Éowyn wasn't about to go off and get married to a suitor like the ones he imagined. And so when he sat up on the floor and she sat up in bed and asked for a starting topic of conversation, he said somewhat nervously, "Er…why aren't you married?"

Éowyn stared down at him for a moment, frowning, and Sirius realized his question could've been taken in a negative way. "I just mean…you're related to the king, and…"

"I understand," Éowyn said, sighing heavily. Sirius wished he had never brought it up and was about to change the subject when Éowyn added, "It is interesting you ask me this…my brother was questioning me about it earlier."

She didn't sound suspicious, merely surprised. She continued on to say, "There are several men available for me…men of excellent quality."

"And what exactly does 'excellent quality' mean?"

"It means they are of noble birth, and are courageous men of great virtue…" Éowyn paused for a moment and the corners of her mouth barely revealed a smile. "And I have been told some are very pleasing to look at."

Sirius' jaw twicthed; it occurred to him that the idea of Éowyn marrying a handsome young prince with a sword made him angrier than the thought of her being married to one of the disgusting people he imagined.

"Who do you like the most?" Sirius asked, trying not to sound defensive.

"Oh, I have never actually met any of them…I have seen a few, but never spoken directly to them. But I have heard great things about the sons of Denethor, both of whom are unmarried. My brother would most approve of me marrying the youngest, Faramir, who is said to be very learned…although I admit I would prefer his elder brother, Boromir, who has proven himself quite courageous in battle. But either would be excellent. If I were to marry one of Denethor's sons it would strengthen the relationship between Rohan and Gondor."

"That shouldn't matter," Sirius said crossly. "What matters is whether or not you like the person."

"In an ideal situation, I suppose it would," Éowyn said quietly. "But in that respect I do not see that Denethor's sons have any disadvantage…I find it impossible to love any of the men I have been suggested to marry."

"Why?"

"Because I already…" Éowyn's voice drifted.

"You already what?" Sirius asked, his curiosity alerted.

"I…I do…have feelings for…someone else," Éowyn said shiftily.

"Then why don't you marry him?"

"That would be impossible."

Sirius' heart started pounding. _It's me! It must be me…_

But he had to be sure.

"Why would it be 'impossible'?"

"Oh, there are….several reasons," Éowyn said, and Sirius noticed that her cheeks were reddening.

"But this is someone you know, right? Someone you actually know well, to have feelings for him."

"Yes."

"Then it's someone here."

Éowyn didn't reply.

"Why can't you marry him?"

"Well…I suppose that one reason is…is that he has no feelings for me."

Sirius hesitated a moment. "Are you positive?"

"Yes…he certainly would have expressed them if he did. And it is unlikely he would, considering…considering the circumstances."

Now Sirius was sure. Éowyn's embarrassed expression and careful evasions of the questions proved she was trying to hide the person's identity from him, but since he didn't know anyone in the palace except her relatives, he knew it had to be him.

Sirius quickly became aggravated by her main reason—that he had expressed no feelings for her yet. He decided to push this further. "Maybe he does like you…_love_ you…but he hasn't told you yet because he's…well…because of the circumstances, like you said."

Éowyn thought about this for a moment, then shook her head. "I appreciate your help, Sirius, but this man…if I told you whom I was referring to…you would not say such things so easily."

"Éowyn…"

"I am tired tonight. I had a rather strenuous day. Perhaps we could end this discussion?"

"Sure," Sirius said quietly.

He transformed into a dog and rested his head in his paws, thinking. At first he was upset with himself for how poorly he had handled this, but these feelings were replaced with elation that Éowyn actually did love him.

_I'll get her to admit it first. I'll get her to admit her feelings…and then I'll tell her mine._


	29. Chapter 29: Temptation

A/N: Apart from being extraordinarily busy, one of the reasons I haven't posted recently is because I'm stuck on the Lupin/Tonks/Haradrim sideplot. I have pretty much the rest of the first installment (FOTR) figured out, except for them. I really regret doing this, but I can't let the rest of the story suffer, so I'm going to have to SUSPEND the Haradrim plot until I can figure it out better. It will not go away forever, I promise. What'll probably happen is I'll go back and replace old chapters (like this one) to include the parts with them in it after this first installment is done, or hopefully sooner if inspiration strikes. I'm sorry!

Chapter 29

Temptation

They had been provided with heavy cloaks for just such a purpose, but still nothing could prepare the Fellowship for the bitter cold of Caradhras. Harry longed for some Muggle snowshoes as his feet sloshed in the snow; Hermione looked wistfully at Legolas, whose feet touched the snow so lightly they left barely a trace behind them. Neither were as chilled as the hobbits, however, whose bare feet were exposed.

Even without the snow Ron would have found the long trek up the mountain difficult. The rest of the Fellowship, save Legolas, seemed to be in agreement. All were surprised that Gandalf and Dumbledore, who could appear as frail old men to a stranger's eye, were leading the way, maintaining a brisk pace.

In the beginning the going was not too difficult. The Fellowship tried to cheer one another up as much as possible, trading more stories. Neville was telling Merry and Pippin about an embarrassing encounter with Professor Snape when suddenly they halted.

Boromir, who had been in front of them, had stopped. His eyes were fixed on a shining object in the snow. The fire in those eyes contrasted the ice surrounding them.

Frodo had fallen seconds before, and the Ring had slipped off his neck unnoticed.

Out of the corner of his eye Neville saw Boromir lurch forward, but someone else was standing closer to where the Ring lay. Ron stooped over and held it up by its chain.

Harry, the closest to him, caught his breath. Ron was staring at the Ring strangely, as though he were having difficulty comprehending an enigmatic concept.

Frodo, still brushing snow off himself, didn't realize what was going on until he saw all eyes turned to Ron. He cried out and was about to run at Ron when Sam gently took hold of his arm.

"It's weird, isn't it?" Ron said distantly, to no one in particular. "I mean…it's so small. Tiny. You'd never even notice it. But this whole world is going to hell over it."

"Give the Ring back to Frodo," Aragorn said calmly.

"I'm just looking at it," Ron said defensively. Harry and Hermione glanced at one another; Ron looked ready to enter one of his infamous tantrums.

"Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said, coming forward, "I believe you have looked at it quite enough."

"You think I'm going to steal it, don't you?!" Ron shouted angrily, tightening his grip on the chain. "You don't trust me!"

"Ron, just give the Ring back," Harry said.

Ron glared at him. "_You_ don't trust me either?! My best friend!"

Aragorn's hand moved to his sword hilt. The entire Fellowship stood frozen.

"Nobody trusts me," Ron said, looking vicious.

Surprisingly, it was Neville who spoke up. "Of course we trust you," he said casually. "It's just…you know…it's freezing out here. And standing still…that's not good when it's this cold. We ought to keep moving."

Ron stared at him.

"Aren't you cold?" Neville asked.

Ron hesitated a moment, then said quietly, "Yeah, I…I guess I am pretty cold." He shivered, then held out the chain. "Here you go, Frodo. Neville's right. We should keep going."

Frodo walked over and snatched the Ring rather violently from Ron's hand, immediately putting it back around his neck. Ron frowned, looking a little dazed, and continued marching along.

Harry, afraid to approach Ron right away, instead turned to Neville. "That was brilliant."

Neville shrugged. "I was pretty cold."

"I know, but…the way you were able to keep calm and everything…"

"I wasn't really all that worried."

"Huh," Harry said, and he turned and walked over to where Hermione was. Neville waited until Harry was gone, then smiled to himself.

-----------------------------------

That night spent on the mountain was the worst night of Ron's life. He was determined to forget the incident with the Ring, but could not ignore the strange looks he received from the rest of the Fellowship or, even worse, his own strange looks toward Frodo and the chain around his neck. But even without the distress of that day's event the night still would have been awful for him. It was freezing cold, and Gandalf only reluctantly lit a fire which quickly went out.

The following day the Fellowship arose after little rest and continued their trek, but it soon became clear the weather had not improved as they had all hoped. Instead, it seemed suddenly to become worse; the intermittent snowfall of the day before had turned into a blizzard that tested the endurance of even the strongest of the Fellowship.

After a few hours of this, the Fellowship was forced to halt. At this point the hobbits were so frozen they were being carried by Aragorn and Boromir; even Legolas seemed to finally be affected by the cold.

"This is rotten luck," Gimli said with a scowl. "Even Cruel Caradhras is not usually so brutal."

"I do not believe this is nature's doing," Gandalf said grimly. "Perhaps we did not evade the _crebain_, as we had hoped."

"Those birds have something to do with this?" Pippin said through chattering teeth.

"Their master Saruman is no doubt behind it," Gandalf said.

"Yes…I hear a fell voice on the air," Legolas confirmed.

"Then we must turn back," Dumbledore said.

"It is not so simple," Gandalf said slowly.

"Yes it is!" Hermione cried, surprising Harry with her vehemence. "Everyone's going to freeze to death if we don't turn back right now! You just don't want to go back because you don't want to admit Dumbledore was right from the beginning! We should never have come this way!"

Gandalf was taken aback; Dumbledore humbly defended him. "Gandalf could not have known Saruman would cause this blizzard. Without Saruman's interference, we likely could have made it."

"I believe we still can," Gandalf said, but with some doubt evident in his voice.

"I know what you fear," Boromir said quickly, obviously anxious to get moving. "We do not have to go through the Mines, Gandalf. The Gap of Rohan is…"

"That road will be swarming with Saruman's spies," Aragorn said.

"Then you would continue?" Boromir shouted angrily. "Allow the hobbits to perish against an enemy we cannot fight, when instead we could go south, and have some chance at success?"

There was a pause. Then Neville said, "I think Frodo should decide."

Where before they had been glaring at each other, now all eyes turned to Frodo.

"The Mines, the Gap, or the Pass?" Gandalf asked calmly.

Frodo hesitated, then said, "When I set out from Hobbiton, I was nearly captured by Black Riders until I left the road. So far we have evaded the enemy by treading unexpected paths. Saruman is obviously watching us now, and if his eyes are also on the Gap of Rohan…then the only way is through the Mines of Moria."

Gimli clapped Frodo on the back in approval. Gandalf looked concerned, but still said, "So be it…we make for the Mines."


	30. Chapter 30: Greeting the Dark

Chapter 30

Greeting the Dark

Any of the Fellowship who had been nervous about turning back were relieved when the company left the freezing blizzard on Caradhras and returned to the cool air of Hollin. They traveled south, and at length reached their destination—the West Gate of Moria.

Gandalf announced they must wait for moonlight before the gate would reveal itself, so the Fellowship set up a temporary camp between the vast mountainside wall and a small lake. Sam was ready to let go of Bill the pony until he heard wolves howling in the distance.

"What if they get to him?" he asked worriedly.

"He could never make the journey through those dark mines," Gandalf said softly. "Bill is strong; I doubt a wolf or two would be able to outrun him."

The wolf howled again, and Harry saw Aragorn grip his sword hilt. "Look, he's scared," he commented to Ron.

Harry had tried cheering up Ron after the incident on the mountain by bringing up their old suspicions about Aragorn, and it seemed to be working. Ron saw Aragorn's move and nodded in agreement. "I doubt he's worried about Bill."

"Why should he be afraid of wolves?" Harry asked.

"Maybe he knows more than he's letting on. Remember that hill where those black things attacked us? He was all twitchy before that, too."

"Or maybe he's just being cautious," a voice behind them said.

They both turned their heads to see Hermione standing behind them, her arms folded.

"You've been spying on us?" Ron asked.

"You're one to talk," Hermione said huffily. "And I wasn't spying…you two were talking so loud I'm surprised Aragorn couldn't hear you."

"You have to admit, he's being pretty paranoid," Harry said.

"Of course he is! Gandalf has been saying all along how dangerous this place is."

"But if that were all, then…" Ron started, but he stopped when his eyes caught something shiny to his left. All three turned, and were stunned into speechlessness when the moonlight suddenly caught the wall behind them and revealed a shining engraving on the stone.

All were silent as Gandalf approached the engraving. "Ah," he said, his eyes lit up from the light's reflection. "_The Doors of __Durin__, Lord of __Moria__. Speak, friend, and enter._"

"So we just have to speak and it'll open?" Neville asked hopefully.

"Then it should've opened already, shouldn't it?" Hermione asked warily.

"The message is simple," Gimli said gruffly. "If you are a friend, you speak the password and the doors will open for you."

"So what's the password?" Harry asked.

There was a moment of silence which almost turned into panic until Gandalf placed the tip of his staff against the engraving and shouted a few words in Elven.

"What'd he say?" Ron mockingly asked Hermione; she scowled at him and turned away, her cheeks reddening a little.

After a few seconds of nothing, Gandalf tried something else, and then another phrase, and then another, until it became apparent he had no idea. He turned to the rest of the Fellowship and said ashamedly, "It has been many years…I must think on this."

"You brought us here, and you do not even know how to enter this accursed place?" Boromir asked angrily. "We should have heeded my counsel and made for the Gap of Rohan. If we leave now and travel through the night…"

"No," Gandalf said sternly. "I shall think of it…just grant me some time."

The Fellowship resumed its idleness with less enthusiasm. Harry, Ron, and Hermione continued to sit together, although Hermione was still arguing with them.

"You have no proof that Aragorn shouldn't be trusted," she scolded.

"You should have proof to trust someone," Harry said wisely. "You don't need proof not to trust someone. Trust has to be earned."

"And hasn't he earned it? Without him we would never have made it to Rivendell. Gandalf trusts him. There's no reason…"

"Hey," Ron interrupted suddenly, still staring at the door. "What if it's…like…a riddle, or something?"

"What?" Harry and Hermione said together.

"You know, like…what if it's not telling you to say a word because you're a friend…what if it's telling you to say the word 'friend'?"

"You mean the password is the word 'friend'?" Harry said.

"Yeah, in Elfish, or whatever," Ron said.

"That's ridiculous," Hermione scoffed.

"Why?"

"Because the inscription is written in Elven, and the word 'friend' is included in the inscription. Anyone who was just reading the message out loud would say the password, and it would open."

"Oh," Ron mumbled. "Sorry."

"It's obviously more complex than that," Hermione said, trying to think herself.

"I thought your idea was brilliant," Harry whispered to Ron.

Ron smiled. "Thanks, mate."

Meanwhile, Neville was sitting with Merry and Pippin by the lakeside. The two hobbits were skipping stones across the surface of the water, and trying to convince Neville to try.

"I can't do it," Neville said, frowning.

"You'll never know unless you try," Pippin said.

"Here," Merry said, handing him a large rock. "Try this one."

Neville concentrated and was about to throw the rock when an idea struck him. "Hey!" he cried, and, dropping the rock, he ran over to Harry.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"Why don't you try Parseltongue?" Neville asked excitedly.

"I don't think that would work here," Hermione said, frowning.

"But it's what opened the Chamber of Secrets, isn't it?" Neville asked.

"This place has nothing to do with the Chamber of Secrets."

"This whole world is inside the Chamber of Secrets!" Ron protested. "Neville's right; it's worth a try."

Harry didn't think much of the idea, but didn't want to disappoint Neville, so he approached the doorway, where Gandalf and Aragorn were staring at the engraving. "I'd like to try something," he told Gandalf.

"By all means," Gandalf said, stepping out of the way.

Harry approached the engraving, trying to imagine the curving branches of the trees as snakes. After a few seconds of concentration, he whispered, in Parseltongue, "_Open_."

Nothing happened. Harry was turning to leave when he heard Aragorn scold, "What was the purpose of that?"

"I just wanted to try something," Harry said defensively.

"We may as well have all the Fellowship line up and speak, then…but it would accomplish nothing."

"And what've _you_ accomplished?" Harry asked angrily.

"Forgive me," Gandalf said, standing before Harry, and he seemed genuinely upset. "I know you are tired and wish I could provide you the comfort of progress…I am trying my utmost to determine the solution. Please…allow me more time before you lose all faith in me."

Harry opened his mouth, not sure what to say; all his anger had been directed at Aragorn, but somehow Gandalf had taken it upon himself. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, and he walked back to the group.

Neville, meanwhile, had watched them arguing, and felt bad; he, after all, had been the one who suggested it. He picked up the stone Merry and Pippin had given him and hurled it into the water, staring down at the lake's edge and not even watching where it hit. To his surprise, he saw small ripples reaching the edge; the stone hadn't seemed that big. Even larger ripples followed.

"Now that's odd," Pippin said.

"Ah!" Gandalf cried suddenly. "Speak friend and enter…of course! Far too simple." He placed his staff against the engraving and cried, "_Mellon_!"

Suddenly, cracks appeared along the edges of the engraving, and a door swung inward. Gandalf smiled, and the others were very relieved.

"What was that thing he said?" Ron asked Hermione, but this time without the mocking tone.

Nevertheless, she looked very embarrassed. "Oh, it's…I don't know very much Elven, but Legolas did teach me that one word…" she hesitated, then mumbled, "It means 'friend.'"

Harry expected Ron to burst into gloating, but to his and Hermione's surprise Ron simply shrugged and said, "Gandalf probably thought like you did, Hermione…that that would've been stupid…"

"I'm sure if he had heard your idea earlier we would've gotten in a lot sooner," Hermione said. "I shouldn't have discouraged you."

Ron smiled and didn't say anything more. When she thought Ron wasn't looking, Hermione smiled too…but Harry was looking.

With his thoughts focused on Ron and Hermione, the shouts from behind caught Harry completely off-guard. He spun around to see giant tentacles bursting from the lake, one of which immediately grabbed Frodo as though it were somehow attracted to him, the others seeming to take up defensive postures around their prize.

Harry pulled out his short sword but wasn't sure what to do with it; he readily stepped back and allowed Boromir and Aragorn to charge the tentacles, hacking away with their long swords. Gimli stood guard before the rest of the hobbits, grouped together away from the lakeside in case another tentacle came after one of them. Legolas had notched an arrow to his bow but stood waiting to fire, for what Harry didn't know.

His confusion disappeared when, after hacking off several tentacles, the monster's head surfaced. Legolas rapidly fired several arrows at it, while Boromir recovered the relinquished Frodo and carried him safely away. But Legolas' arrows seemed to have little effect as more tentacles erupted from the creature, one almost snatching Aragorn, another going after Ron.

"Into the gateway!" Gandalf cried, he and Dumbledore rushing into the darkness. Gimli shepherded the hobbits in next, and the others quickly followed, with Legolas, still firing arrows for as long as he could, bringing up the rear.

The only light inside the passage came from outside the doorway, and it soon vanished when the creatures' strong tentacles caused an avalanche in front of the opening as it vainly sought to reel in another member of the Fellowship.

After the horrible crashing noise of the avalanche outside ceased, the Fellowship was in complete silence and complete darkness.

All eyes turned to a dim light which grew brighter and brighter until it lit up most of the passageway; Gandalf's staff was glowing like a lantern. He held it aloft, and Hermione cried out as she realized she was standing right next to a corpse.

"Dwarves," Legolas said, peering down at the skeletons. "Murdered by goblins, no doubt."

"They have not lain here long, Gandalf," Aragorn said grimly. "I doubt we will find any welcome here."

"Moria is a vast city," Gimli said. "There may yet be survivors holding out in some of the great halls."

"We can only hope," Gandalf said quietly. Next to him, Dumbledore nodded in agreement, but wasn't really listening; Gimli's words "great halls" stirred up memories in him of Hogwarts.

"Our exit it blocked," Boromir observed bitterly. "Should this way prove dangerous—and by the state of these dwarves I am inclined to believe it will be—we shall have no means of escape."

"We must continue," Gandalf said. "I expect three or four marches before our journey through Moria is done…if the path is straight as I hope, and does not climb too steeply."

"And if we don't run into any goblins," Ron mumbled; he heard a gruff "Huh" from Boromir nearby.

"Let us be off," Gandalf said, and as the light moved into the next room, the Fellowship anxiously followed.

-----------------------------------

"What's all that noise?"

Draco happened to be standing next to his father, or he wouldn't have spoken to him at all. Lucius was less concerned with the ruckus downstairs than he was with disregarding his son; he scowled and walked away.

Draco frowned down the winding staircase, where all manner of orcs were shouting and screeching. He at first thought they might be under attack, but after a few seconds was able to interpret the hideous sound as cheering. Something had made them inexplicably happy.

Draco started backing away when it became clear that something was coming up the stairs as the noise grew louder; whatever it was was important enough to be presented at this topmost story of the tower.

Reconsidering, Draco stood his ground. After living around orcs this long he wasn't really afraid of anything concerning them anymore…or so he thought.

The cheers died down halfway up the stairs, and the orcs went back down. Draco could hear a solitary pair of boots stomping up the staircase. The source of the excitement was a person…or a creature.

When it revealed itself at the top of the staircase, Draco stared up at it, and it stared down at him.

"Who're you?" Draco asked stupidly; his shock at finding the ominous being to be merely a man prompted him to ask a question.

The figure, dressed in black, stood up to his full height and declared, "I am the Lieutenant of this tower! _What_ are you?"

"I'm a human," Draco said. "Draco Malfoy."

"Human?" the man repeated. "Yes, I am that as well…or once was. I am much more than human now."

"Really?" Draco said skeptically.

"I am the Mouth of Sauron! I do the bidding of my Lord, and I am rewarded. I gather you do the same?"

"I have a different Lord, but…I guess his Lord is your Lord."

The man frowned. "You gave your name…what was it?"

"Draco Malfoy."

"I have never heard such a name."

"It's…I'm not from around here."

"You are fair-haired, like the Men from Rohan."

"I'm not from Rohan."

"Where are you from?"

Draco hesitated; this strange person obviously didn't think very highly of him, and he didn't want to say anything that might get him into trouble with Voldemort…or Sauron. "I doubt you would know."

"You doubt?! Did you not hear me properly upon my introduction?! I am the Lieutenant of Barad-Dur, special aide to the Dark Lord! When this world is ours I shall rule much if! I know of every land, from the deserts of Far Harad to the Rat-Lands of the West!"

"Rat-Lands?" Draco repeated.

"You are not worthy to study from the Dark Lord, if you should express such insolence!"

Draco was amusingly reminded of something a stingy Death Eater might say, and actually smiled.

"I would smite you now were I not looking forward to what the Dark Lord has in store for you if he hears of this!" the Lieutenant cried, rushing away.

Draco stood alone for a few minutes before going back to his room, wondering about the strange lieutenant. Thankfully a little while later Voldemort came by to explain the situation.

"He is a faithful servant of Lord Sauron…and he does not trust us," Voldemort said.

"He seemed to think only he was worthy of being here…" Draco glanced at his dismal surroundings. "He probably is more _worthy_ of being in a place like this."

Voldemort actually smiled. "I agree…but nevertheless, we must remain on good terms with him. Surprisingly, his opinion does seem to hold sway with Lord Sauron."

"He sounded like an idiot to me."

"Comments such as that…while they may be true…must be cautiously withheld. Sauron's ears are everywhere in this place…the Lieutenant himself does not necessarily need to hear them for you to be punished."

"What's his name?"

"He does not have one…he is the Lieutenant, the Messenger, and the Mouth of Sauron."

"He claimed he used to be human."

Voldemort's eyes roamed up to the ceiling, and suddenly were filled with a distant, hungry look. "Yes…he told me that as well. He said that over the centuries he has forgotten much of his human life, though."

"Centuries?"

"It seems Sauron, as a favor to his servant, has bequeathed upon him eternal life."

Draco's eyes widened. While it was a life-goal of Voldemort's, immortality was no less appealing to Draco.

"He can't be all that smart," Draco said slowly. "I mean…if Sauron would do that for a person like _him_…"

Voldemort suddenly looked sharply at him. "Do not make assumptions, Malfoy. It is possible he has been given this gift because he lacks intelligence and is not seen as a threat…which is what he seems to see us as."

"Why should he think we're threats? Sauron's this all-powerful god-like being. How can we be threats to that?"

"More likely he finds us threats to his own position as Sauron's Messenger…he may fear someone like you would take that position."

Draco suddenly had a thought of himself in all that shiny black armor, leading a fearsome horde of orcs and other monsters against an army of handsome soldiers directed by Harry Potter in Gryffindor Quidditch robes. He smiled at both the temptation of the image and the stupidity of it.

Voldemort, recognizing that neither of them was really focused on their conversation anymore, cautioned, "Do not forget my warning…and I would rather you not learn firsthand that idiocy is no measure of threat."

"I'll watch out for him, and avoid him as much as I can," Draco said. Voldemort nodded and left.


	31. Chapter 31: In the Dark

A/N: It's been so long since I posted! I again thank everyone who has reviewed this story (100+ reviews is more than I ever thought I would get!), especially Aoi Dragon, whose recent review reminded me that I really love this story and need to post. This is a short chapter; I'm only posting it now because I feel that I must. I will post again very soon!

Chapter 31

In the Dark

After only a few minutes of marching in Moria, Neville thought the Fellowship might have had a better chance at uncovering the cave-in at the entrance than navigating the entire passage through the treacherous mines. Twice he almost fell into the black depths; once he certainly would have if Boromir hadn't caught his arm and steadied him.

The dim light of Gandalf's staff was barely enough to see the path by, and those standing in the back of the Fellowship of fourteen could see almost nothing. Frodo was comforted by the presence of Aragorn behind him, helping to guide when the hobbit had difficulty seeing and preventing him from toppling over.

Somehow, even after viewing the great Misty Mountains from afar, Harry had hoped their journey through the mines would be something like a trek through the Forbidden Forest, with only a few hours of torment at the most. After about three hours in almost total darkness it became clear they still had much further to go. Ron bitterly mentioned to Boromir that if the Fellowship had simply brought warmer clothes, they could have crossed at the Pass of Caradhras and never entered this mess; Boromir nodded, but knew that if they had attempted to cross over the mountain not all of them would have made it. Here, though, he wasn't certain anyone would make it.

After several hours with no change in scenery the Fellowship stopped their long march and rested after finally having a decent meal. Almost everyone except the hobbits had difficulty sleeping.

As Harry lay awake, he noticed something strange; Aragorn was approaching Frodo's sleeping body, unnoticed by the wide-awake Fellowship members who sat on the opposite side of the wide hall. Harry frowned as Aragorn reached out toward Frodo, and Harry's hand instinctively reached first for the area where he normally would have kept his wand and then for the place where his dagger lay at his belt…

Harry was almost certain Aragorn was going after the Ring, so he was astonished when Aragorn slipped Frodo's short sword out of its sheath. For a moment of panic Harry thought Aragorn might stab Frodo, but then saw Aragorn carry Sting back to his sitting place and lay it down next to him.

Aragorn, his eyes resting on the opposite wall, said quietly, "I know you are watching."

Harry hesitated, wondering if Aragorn had really been able to tell without ever looking that Harry was watching. He was stunned when Dumbledore, walking out of the darkness where some of the others slept, said, "You are very observant."

"As are you. You were clearly suspicious of my intentions…why did you not attempt to stop me?"

"I did not know what you were doing."

"But I could have been trying to take the Ring."

"I trusted that you were not."

Aragorn turned to face Dumbledore. "The Ring's effects are powerful, especially in a place like this that has been tainted by evil. The strongest of men can be swayed by it. Some evil force could have possessed me to try to take it. You must not 'trust'."

"You would rather I had called out, and disturbed everyone's rest?"

"If I had taken the Ring, would that not have disturbed everyone's rest?"

"Yes, but…" Dumbledore paused. "I see your point. I shall not make a similar mistake in the future."

"Good."

"May I ask what you were doing?"

"I was removing Frodo's sword…you may not recall, but it is of such magic that it can sense coming danger and glow blue at its approach. It is more efficient than the eyes and ears of a weary guard."

"As long as he is not so weary as to ignore the glow."

"I have been a Ranger for many years. Other than Gandalf there is no better to guard you. Now rest. We still have three marches ahead of us, at least."

Dumbledore nodded and went back to sleep. Harry, somewhat disturbed by the antagonistic undertones in their conversation, tried not to think about Aragorn and Dumbledore as he too closed his eyes and finally managed to sleep.

Harry felt like he had just drifted off when Hermione shook him awake.

"Just a few more minutes," he mumbled.

"We're leaving _now_, Harry," Hermione said.

Harry groaned and got up. Everyone was strapping on their gear, preparing for a long march. Harry's legs were sore and his eyes were red and dry, but he was encouraged by the sight of a sleepy Neville already prepared to go.

The Fellowship marched on in the darkness, and after a few hours finally encountered one of the _mithril_ mines, which was a thrill for all the Middle-earth dwellers but not as exciting for Harry and those from his world. More refreshing to him was their entrance into an enormous hall, so great he could not see walls above or on either side, and where the air was no longer stale.

After resting here the Fellowship came upon a crossroads. There were three passages, all leading in different directions, and for the first time Gandalf came to a halt and declared he had no memory of this place.

"I could scout ahead," Aragorn offered. "Whichever path you are most inclined to could…"

"No," Gandalf said immediately. "We are venturing deeper into the heart of the mountains now…if there are to be orcs or goblins anywhere, they will be here. We cannot separate."

"Then what should we do?" Pippin asked wearily.

"I shall think about it," Gandalf said, sitting down on a large rock. "You may have another rest, but I recommend we do not cut into our food rations."

This last statement received a groan from the hobbits, but everyone else was happy enough for another break.

Harry, afraid that if he fell asleep he would have to be woken abruptly and would be even more tired, considered speaking to Ron or Hermione, but both were occupied in conversations with Boromir and Legolas. He was about to approach Neville when Dumbledore came over to him.

"Harry, I would like a word with you."

Harry recalled the old wizard's conversation with Aragorn the previous night. Hermione had always been suspicious of Aragorn, but Harry's suspicions had previously been directed at Dumbledore. Now Harry wondered if the reason for Dumbledore's reluctance to provide Harry with legitimate information might be revealed.

Harry and Dumbledore walked a little ways away from the main group, now with enough light to not be fully dependent on Gandalf's staff.

"What is it, Professor?"

"I…I merely wanted to tell you…how proud I am of you, Harry."

Harry blinked. "I…Professor, I am not really sure…I mean…thanks…"

"I am quite serious, Harry…I know how taxing this journey is both mentally and physically, and it is so selfless of you to be doing this for Ginny Weasley at such great risk to your own life."

"I…I appreciate it, but…I mean…everyone's doing it, Ron and Hermione and Neville…"

"They are strong as well. But if any danger should befall the Fellowship…it is you who shall have the strength to lead them. It pains me to think it, but at this point there is no turning back."

"Professor, I…I'm not sure what you mean. We're doing fine. Nothing bad has happened yet, not since Weathertop anyway."

Dumbledore smiled. "And hopefully nothing will happen. I just want you to be ready."

Fear struck Harry as he saw the emptiness in Dumbledore's smile. Harry had hoped Dumbledore would be revealing things; now he seemed to be hiding something even more important. Harry thought about what he had said, and was reminded of movies where the hero was about to sacrifice himself and wanted to make sure everyone else would be okay without him.

"I am ready," Harry said, trying not to betray his concern.

"That is very good to hear…but I know you are. It is just important for you to recognize it as well."

"I…I do, I…"

Harry was gladly interrupted by Gandalf, who had decided on the path they should take based on the foulness of the air in the other two. After several minutes Aragorn and Gimli confirmed that they seemed to be going the right way, and the Fellowship continued into darkness once more.

------------------------------

The Fellowship had been traveling for more days than Hermione could keep track of. Gandalf was constantly attempting to cheer up the group by commenting how fortunate it was they had not encountered any goblins or orcs. Only Gimli did not seem encouraged; Hermione knew he was more concerned they had not found any living dwarves.

A few hours after breakfasting the Fellowship came upon a strange room with a shaft of light beaming onto a slab of white stone. They approached cautiously, with Gandalf in the lead. Gimli quickly ran up next to him as they peered over at the engraving on the stone.

"Balin son of Fundin, Lord of Moria," Gandalf read solemnly.

Gimli turned aside and cast his hand over his face.

The Fellowship sat in silence for a little while; there could be no more hopes of finding welcoming dwarf hosts in this place, and since a great battle seemed to have taken place around this tomb it meant orcs could be controlling this area. Aragorn, Boromir, and Legolas were tense, flinching at every sound, as Gandalf pored over an old book he found near a skeleton by the tomb.

"This is the Chamber of Records," he announced. "Here is told the tale of Balin's attempt to retake Moria…"

Gimli assisted in the translation of the text, but most of the Fellowship, enveloped in their own thoughts, paid no attention to the book. Hermione glanced at Dumbledore and noticed him looking unusually unhealthy; his face was drawn and his eyes seemed more sunken. She reasoned it might have been the effect of the light on his face, but acknowledged he did seem uncommonly quiet.

His silence was shared by many of the Fellowship as Gandalf's translations became more ominous and drew everyone's attention. "'_We cannot get out…they are coming…drums, drums in the deep…we cannot get out…_'"

Suddenly there was a loud clanking noise, and then an echo; Pippin stood guiltily over a well, his hand outstretched, as he had clearly been touching something that had fallen in. Every member of the Fellowship flinched as the noise of the metal echoed from further and further down, until at last it was silent.

"Fool of a Took!" Gandalf said in a hushed voice. "Throw yourself in next time, and rid us of your stupidity!"

"I'm sorry," Pippin said sincerely, glad that his accident seemed to have no repercussions, but his relief wore off when a low rumbling sound erupted from the deeps of the well, and then again…

"It sounds like drums," Ron said warily.

"Is it the orcs?" Neville asked in a frightened voice.

Aragorn's eyes immediately turned to Frodo, who partially unsheathed his sword. It suddenly began to show a faint glow of blue which grew brighter as the drums seemed to be coming closer.

"Draw your weapons," Gandalf ordered. "Here we make our stand."

--------------------------


	32. Chapter 32: Hidden Terror

Chapter 32

Hidden Terror

Aragorn and Boromir rushed forward to block the door, but no sooner had they done this than scratching sounds could be heard at it.

"They shall break through before long," Boromir said, unsheathing his sword and standing at the ready.

Gimli, bearing his axe, turned to the hobbits. "There are many good warriors among us; you need not fear. Retreat to the far corner, and we shall keep them from getting near the Ring."

Frodo and Sam immediately went to the back, with Merry and Pippin following. Neville went with them.

"Harry, come on," Hermione cautioned.

"I want to help them fight," Harry said, looking toward the others, who were standing near the door ready for it to break down.

"You'd only get yourself hurt!"

"I've been practicing, I…"

"We can defend the hobbits," Ron said, standing a little bit in front of Frodo.

Harry thought for a moment, then nodded. They had so many great fighters; Harry wouldn't be needed.

Or so he thought. Legolas began firing arrows into the holes that the orcs carved through the door with their swords and spears, but when they started smashing against it with more ferocity he retreated a few steps, ready for them to break through.

And they did. Aragorn and Boromir went forward with a cry, hacking at the first orcs to enter. Others sprang out to the sides, avoiding the two Men; immediately the scene became so chaotic Harry couldn't tell where anyone was. He was terrified that at any moment he would see one of the Fellowship fall, but as far as he could tell only orc bodies hit the ground.

Harry didn't see Dumbledore until Ron pointed him out. The Headmaster was at the front, swinging the Sword of Gryffindor with reckless abandon, in a frenzy Harry could not have imagined the old wizard capable of. Ron grinned with amazement; Hermione was frowning with concern.

The main fighters of the Fellowship took care of the attacking orcs well enough at first, but then larger orcs started pouring in, a deep black color and much fiercer fighters. Harry thought he heard the word "Mordor." He looked at the others with concern.

Then, suddenly, a loud roar was heard. "A cave troll!" Gandalf cried.

There was a moment of hesitation among the Fellowship members, and in that moment Legolas was suddenly struck from behind by a great orc chieftain. As he fell to his knees, the formation Harry, Ron, and Hermione had been keeping in front of Neville and the hobbits broke as they ran to help him. Ron and Harry immediately swung at the chieftain, but he blocked easily with a large spear, then whacked them out of the way. Frodo and Sam also sprang forward, and the chieftain thrust forth his spear, stabbing Frodo in the chest.

Frodo fell backward; Sam screamed and lunged at the orc, but it was Aragorn who lopped off its head from behind. Meanwhile, Hermione had taken Legolas' quiver and arrows and was firing with amazing precision into the oncoming crowd, but not because Legolas was unable; he had passed her the weapon and instead switched to fighting with his twin short swords, apparently recovered from the blow he had received.

Aragorn picked up the still Frodo and called out to Gandalf. Seeing Frodo in such a state, and yet again hearing the roar of the cave troll, he shouted, "Retreat! We must make for the Bridge of Khazad-Dum. Hasten!"

The Fellowship ran toward the east exit; the last to stop fighting and run was Dumbledore, whose gray hair was flung about and whose sword was thick with the blood of orcs.

"Is Frodo all right?" Merry asked worriedly; Sam was in tears.

Aragorn looked grim. "I do not…"

"I'm fine," Frodo gasped out. "Put me down."

Astonished, Aragorn set Frodo down.

"How did you…" Boromir started.

"We can discuss it later," Gandalf said. "We are in danger as long as we delay."

There was a smashing sound from behind; the cave troll had entered the chamber.

"Go on," Gandalf said. "You must hurry."

"You cannot defend the door alone!" Aragorn protested.

"Swords will not protect us any longer. Go!"

With much reluctance, the Fellowship hurried down the stairs, some glancing back over their shoulders and seeing flashes of light. To their relief Gandalf soon joined them, shaken but looking pleased. The fateful drums had stopped beating.

The ceasing of the drums had an uplifting feeling on everyone. Harry suddenly felt like the terror had passed; they would soon be out of the Mines, and all would be well. He smiled at Ron and Hermione, and then at Dumbledore. But Dumbledore's look of distant fear wiped the smile off Harry's face.

"It's hot," Neville said, wiping his forehead.

"That's probably all the running," Hermione said, out of breath. She was still holding Legolas' bow.

"No," Gandalf said concernedly. "I heard the orcs say the word 'fire'…I think the lower levels may be on fire."

"How will we get through?" Pippin asked.

"We must determine that when we get there. Come! We are into the Second Hall now; we have almost reached the bridge…the gates are…"

Gandalf was cut off by an arrow whistling overheard; the orcs were catching up in their pursuit.

In a burst of speed the Fellowship raced along the hall. They were now all aware of the fire behind them by the heat and light, but none dared to look behind. Harry thought he heard a distant roar and feared the cave troll might still be after them.

The Fellowship suddenly halted at the edge of an enormous chasm. For a moment of breathtaking awe, they stared down into the unending blackness. Harry glanced at Ron, who was looking wearily at the narrow bridge, and then at Dumbledore. The old wizard was transfixed, his eyes wide as he stared into the blackness. Harry felt a lump in his throat. He was afraid for his own life and the lives of all the others, but there was something in Dumbledore's eyes, some hidden terror, that Harry couldn't comprehend.

The passage behind suddenly grew brighter, and a deep rumbling sound echoed across the hall. All turned. Legolas cried out.

An enormous black shape, seemingly on fire, was fast approaching them.

"This is what Gandalf feared," Frodo whispered. "We should not have come this way…"

"It cannot be!" Boromir said, aghast.

"Durin's Bane!" Gimli shouted.

"What is it?!" Ron screamed in frustration.

"A Balrog, and a creature no match for even my skills," Gandalf said. "We must cross the bridge."

As they began to run across, it became clear the Balrog would catch up with them before they made it to the other side, and indeed it did. The winged demon, standing in all its fury opposite them on the bridge, brandished a fiery whip and snarled at the weaker prey.

"Go," Gandalf said. "I will hold the bridge. You must escape."

"You said it was no match for you!" Hermione protested.

"You must go!" Gandalf shouted.

The Fellowship, recognizing they could do nothing to help, began to retreat to the other side of the bridge, but they would not leave until Gandalf had dealt with the creature.

"Harry, may I have your sword?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yeah, here," Harry said, handing it to him and wondering what the old man was planning.

"Here," Dumbledore said, giving him the Sword of Gryffindor.

Harry's eyes widened. "Professor, what…"

Dumbledore turned and stood next to Gandalf on the bridge.

"You must go," Gandalf said.

"I must stay," Dumbledore said with firm conviction.

Gandalf was not in a position to argue. He faced the Balrog. "You cannot pass. I am a servant of the Secret Fire. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udun!"

The Balrog swung its whip, but Gandalf magically procured a shield that covered him and Dumbledore; the whip bounced off harmlessly.

The Balrog stomped its foot in anger, sending a vibration across the bridge. "It's going to collapse," Hermione whispered to Harry.

Now the Balrog drew a molten sword in his other hand. It swung at Dumbledore, but Gandalf blocked with Glamdring.

"He cannot prevail," Boromir said in a quavering voice. "It is folly."

But suddenly Gandalf screamed, "You shall not pass!" and thrust his staff down with all his might. It hit the bridge in front of him, and the stone collapsed right in front of the Balrog's feet. The creature fell, and Gandalf stood before it victorious, with Dumbledore at his side.

Just as Gandalf was turning, however, something hit him from behind—the thongs of the Balrog's whip had struck his legs. Gandalf fell and slid to the edge of the bridge.

"No!" Frodo screamed.

"Fly!" Gandalf shouted; Dumbledore grabbed his arm, but he seemed to have just as shaky a hold on the ledge.

"Fly," Gandalf repeated, this time to Dumbledore, as the arrows of the orcs coming through the passage began to whir past them.

"No," Dumbledore said.

"You are in danger…the orcs are coming…you must go…you must lead them…"

"I am not meant to."

Gandalf had a curious look in his eyes as his hand began to slip, and Dumbledore's footing also started to give way…

Dumbledore lost his hold on Gandalf, and he fell into the black shadows. Rather than attempt to steady himself, Dumbledore let himself fall forward, closing his eyes as his final hold on the ground gave way.

And then, suddenly, something grabbed him. He was pulled up by the back of his robes; Boromir had rushed forward at the last moment and caught him.

Boromir dragged Dumbledore back to the main Fellowship, and Hermione fired her last arrows before the Fellowship ran out of the Gates.

They had not been left undefended. Harry, still in shock after what had just happened, froze when he saw the small company of orcs waiting for them outside.

Aragorn drew his sword and screamed with rage. Hermione turned to look at him, and for a moment thought she saw a bright green flash in his eyes as he raced forward and slaughtered the guard of orcs.

It was light outside; the orcs of the deep mountains would not follow them out. Still, the Fellowship ran until they were out of bowshot of the enemy. When they had entered the Dimrill Dale, with the Misty Mountains now behind them, they finally stopped.

Some sat; some collapsed. All were in shock over what had happened. The hobbits were the first to begin weeping, but after a few minutes everyone had tears in their eyes except Aragorn, who stood with his sword still out and his eyes darting as though afraid of another enemy, and Dumbledore, who sat a distance away from the others, a look of confusion frozen on his face.


	33. Chapter 33: Concealment

Chapter 33

Concealment

Ron had attempted to hide his tears until he saw Boromir weeping openly. No longer able to contain himself, he fell to his knees, crying. Gandalf had been more than a friend. He had been their leader, the one whose shining staff was to guide them through the darkness of Mordor, to Ginny. Ron cried not only for Gandalf, but for the imminent failure of their mission.

After a few minutes, Harry wiped his eyes and walked over to Dumbledore. They were out of earshot of the others, and Harry hoped the old man would talk to him.

"Professor…what happened back there?" Harry asked, his voice quavering a bit.

"I…I am not sure, Harry," Dumbledore said in a distant voice.

"You gave me your sword…you told me that you wanted me to be a leader…" Harry swallowed. "Did you…did you know Gandalf was going to die?"

There was a long pause. "I…have kept many things from you, Harry," Dumbledore said quietly. "I am not one to explain my actions. There is so much I have not told you…and likely never will tell you."

"You…you can tell me now," Harry said.

Dumbledore looked Harry in the eyes. "Have you ever lost your wand, Harry? Before you came here?"

"Yes," Harry said, wondering where this was going.

"Do you…do you remember the feeling, when you retrieve the wand, your wand…when it is back in your hands again, and you can feel its energy flowing through you?"

"Yes."

"I can occasionally produce magic without the use of a wand, but here…I thought it would be impossible. Instead I find myself…" Dumbledore paused. "There was a growing feeling inside me shortly after we arrived in this world, some sort of connection just outside the realm of my senses…it grew and grew, until I began to have troubling thoughts, and troubling dreams."

"Wh…what do you mean?"

"When I warned you about Aragorn…I knew you did not believe me, and for good reason. I could provide you no valid proof against him. I could only tell you what I sensed…that there was great evil in him. And that feeling has become stronger. I can sense it, even from here…only in him, not in any of the others, except Frodo bearing the Ring."

Harry's eyes widened. "So…so it's magic. You can sense it, through magic…"

"Even in our world I could not do this. No wizard can 'sense' evil. Otherwise Peter Pettigrew could not have passed off as a rat, nor could Crouch take the identity of an Auror, nor could any Death Eater conceal themselves under a guise of good…but for some reason, I could sense evil in Aragorn.

"I had hoped Gandalf would confirm my suspicions, but he trusted Aragorn more than anyone. I began to think…" Dumbledore paused. "I began to think I was going mad. And, as if to confirm it, the visions started."

"Visions?" Harry whispered, wondering if he had indeed gone mad.

"I was plagued by a recurring nightmare…I was falling, falling into blackness. It is not an uncommon dream, but it was so vivid…I was certain I was experiencing a vision, some sort of forewarning…and I sensed that my own death was approaching. When we entered Moria that sense heightened. When I stared down into the depths below that bridge…I was certain of myself. I was utterly convinced I would fall to my death…and I fully intended to. I felt a wondrous sense of release as I began to fall…until Boromir lifted me back.

"Perhaps now you can better understand my shock, Harry. I was quite certain I would die with Gandalf in Moria…yet I am here, and feel so very…lost."

"Professor, I…" Harry hesitated. "I…don't really know what to say, I…"

Dumbledore unexpectedly smiled. "Think nothing of it, Harry. I am alive…and I should be grateful for it." His smile faded. "Perhaps what I saw was not my own death, but Gandalf's."

The full reality of Gandalf's death hit Harry again. "What can we do without him?" Harry asked quietly.

"We can continue," Dumbledore said, standing up. "As he would have wanted us to. As we must, in order to destroy the Ring and save Ginny. We have no choice."

Just as Dumbledore said this, Aragorn began rousing the others.

"Watch him, Harry," Dumbledore whispered. "I could be incorrect, but…watch him."

Harry nodded, and the two approached the others.

"We must go on," Aragorn said.

"There's no hope," Ron mumbled.

"We must do without hope," Aragorn said.

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked, staring out at the valley.

"I believe Gandalf intended for us to go to Lothlorien, and even if he did not, I still say we shall venture there," Aragorn said. "There are wise elves there who can counsel us."

Legolas nodded. "The Galadhrim shall provide us with much-needed aid."

"We must set out," Aragorn said.

---------------------------------------

"You look well."

"I feel much better, actually…I think I'm healing really well…thanks to you."

Éowyn smiled. "You are a strong man, to suffer through the pains of your wounds. You remind me of my brother, and Théodred."

"Théodred told me earlier he was going off to fight somewhere."

Éowyn's smile faltered. "Yes, he…is engaging in a skirmish, just a rabble of orcs terrorizing a village."

"Maybe I'll join in some of the fun once I feel better."

Éowyn knitted her eyebrows in concern. "It will be a long time before you are ready to fight."

"Yeah, I guess so…" Sirius stopped. The concern in Éowyn's eyes caused his heart to start pounding. He wanted to know what was going through her mind…he wanted her to admit what she had so long been concealing.

"Éowyn, I…" Sirius paused. "I have the feeling there's something you want to tell me."

Éowyn looked away. "Oh, I…I do not know what could have given you that idea…"

"You've been pretty…evasive…for a couple weeks now. If there's something you want to tell me, you should just tell me."

"I know, I…" Éowyn paused. "I _have_ been keeping something from you."

"Why?"

"I…know not what you will think of me, when…when I tell you…"

"Nothing could ever make me think less of you," Sirius said seriously.

Éowyn hesitated. "I…well, I…I…Do you swear you will not let this leave this room? You will tell _no_ one?"

"Yes."

"And do you swear you will not let it destroy your opinion of me, and our friendship?"

"Of course."

"I…I lo…I am in lo…" Éowyn stopped, took a deep breath, and said, "I am in love with…with someone."

"Who?"

"Théodred."

Sirius blinked. "But…he's…no…no, you…can't be…"

Éowyn's cheeks reddened. "I knew I should not have told you…"

"It's not that I…I'm just…" Sirius stopped.

He had been so sure she would say his name. He had gone through every scenario in his mind, prepared things to say…he had considered she might have feelings for someone else, but carefully eliminated every possibility, because the only people she talked to were him, Éomer, and Théodred…

Théodred. Her cousin.

"I thought you…I thought you were like brother and sister," Sirius said. "I mean, I thought you told me when your parents died it was like the King adopted you, and Théodred became like your brother…"

"Yes, that is true," Éowyn said. "And he thinks of me like a sister…I could never tell him my true feelings. He would be…it would ruin everything we have…"

Sirius tried to hide his frustration and building fury. Théodred was nice enough, but he was no match for Éowyn. Théodred was too princely, too emotional, too friendly, almost feminine…Éowyn needed someone like Sirius, someone bold and brave, reckless and strong and ruggedly handsome…

_Ruin everything…_

More than anything that was what Sirius wanted to do.

"You should tell him," Sirius said suddenly.

"Wh…what?!" Éowyn said, alarmed.

"I'm giving you my advice…as a friend. You should tell him."

"But…but…"

"I once had a cousin who had strong feelings for me," Sirius said quickly. "And…and when she told me…things got better."

Sirius neglected to mention that this cousin was the now-evil Bellatrix Lestrange, and by "things got better" he really meant he avoided her for the rest of his life.

Éowyn did seem a little less reluctant, even though she said, "But…but he would never…never speak to me again…"

"Yes he would. He knows you very well, Éowyn…he probably knows you've been hiding this from him for a long time. He's probably been waiting for you to tell him."

Éowyn considered this, then shook her head. "Perhaps I will, but…I am not ready yet." She paused. "I…I want to thank you for the advice, though…and…I am glad that you are still my friend, even though I have been keeping this from you."

"You should never keep anything from me," Sirius said with a smile.

Éowyn sighed. "Well, I had best be off…to tend to the King. I shall see you later tonight."

"Right."

Éowyn left. Sirius' false smile turned into a scowl the moment she was gone. He was proud of himself for thinking of his diabolical scheme on the spur of the moment, however. _She'll tell him, and he'll be so offended he really will avoid her forever…and then she'll be upset, and I'll comfort her, and she'll see how much she really likes me more than that idiot…_

_"He probably knows and has been waiting for you to tell him"…I can't believe she believed that…_

_Unless it's true._

Sirius' eyes widened as he realized his gamble. Sirius could ruin their relationship, but he could also be the catalyst for a great romance.

_I'll just have to see what happens next…_


	34. Chapter 34: Change of Heart

A/N: I want to thank all of you reviewers for the excellent reviews I've received recently. I can't wait to hear more feedback, and know that if you have any questions I would be happy to answer them. (P.S. This chapter's a bit short, but the next will be a blast, I've been working really hard on it!)

Chapter 34

Change of Heart

The feel of brilliant daylight hitting their backs, the sound of birds chirping, and the sight of a vibrant green setting were welcome changes from the darkness of Moria, but there was no relief on the faces of the Fellowship for the next couple days after Gandalf's death. They grieved in silence until most accepted that it was time to move on, or at least postpone their mourning until a better time.

Merry and Pippin, two of the most upset in the beginning, helped cheer everyone else up by teaching some of the Fellowship their favorite drinking songs at camp one evening. While this was going on, Legolas led Hermione some distance away. Hermione was grateful; for one, Legolas hadn't spoken to her at all since Moria, and secondly, Ron must have noticed them walking off alone…

"Did you want to practice my archery some more?" Hermione asked anxiously.

"No," Legolas said quickly. "No, I…wanted to speak with you…although afterward I would have no objection to continuing your lessons."

"Oh…all right…what did you want to talk about?"

"Hermione…" Legolas hesitated. "In Moria, when you took my bow, and…"

"I'm sorry," Hermione said quickly. "I mean, I should've given it back to you sooner, but I just sort of held on to it…"

Legolas held out his bow to her.

"What…what are you doing?" Hermione asked.

"I am giving it to you."

Hermione's eyes widened. "But you…you need it, and…"

"The Galadhrim have secret skill in crafting bows…if they do not make one for me, in Lothlórien I will at the very least find the materials I need for crafting a new one."

"But…you've had this one for so long…"

"It is time I made a new one. And you deserve it."

"I don't, I didn't…"

"Your skill with an Elven bow is unmatched by any of your race," Legolas said seriously. "Your grace and precision would be assets to even the finest column of elf archers."

Hermione shakily took the bow in her hands. "I…I don't think…I'm _that_ good…"

"Of the arrows you fired in Moria, how many were off their mark?"

Hermione thought for a moment. "Well, I…I think I must have missed once or twice…"

Legolas smiled. "You give yourself little credit. I saw no arrow miss its target."

Hermione smiled back. "Maybe you just weren't looking."

"I watched every arrow as it left the bow."

"Were you afraid I might waste your arrows?"

Legolas' smile widened. "I was amazed by your skill. You were so concentrated on your task…the confident look in your eyes…"

"I thought you were watching the arrows, not my eyes."

"At times I cannot help but look at your eyes."

There was a pause. Hermione blinked and looked away. "I…um…" She ran her fingers distractedly along Legolas' bow.

"I hope I have not offended you," Legolas said quietly.

"No," Hermione said quickly, looking back up at him. "No, I…it's just…the things you say to me, they're…I mean…I've had teachers tell me I've done well in something, and until now…well…most of the things you said sounded more like that. Like a teacher."

"I apologize. I will speak more carefully in the future."

"No! Don't…I mean…if you…" Hermione stopped. Legolas was looking at her intently, waiting for her to speak. She knew she had a decision to make here. Her continued childish flirting with Legolas might be enough to irk Ron into talking to her, but…

There were no guarantees, but if she said something profoundly encouraging right now, she might actually have a chance with Legolas.

_I've been doing all this for Ron, not Legolas…I never thought I would actually…_

"If you want to say something to me…then say it," Hermione said suddenly, and with conviction. "I don't like people who…who hide their feelings, or…don't say what they want to say and then you can never tell what they're really thinking. If you want to be my teacher, tell me…and if you want to be my friend, tell me that…and if you want to be…more than that…if you want to be a good friend…then tell me that too. I just don't want any…any lies, or…hidden feelings, or anything. Just…just the plain truth."

Legolas thought for a moment. "The plain truth is, Hermione, that…you are very gifted. In all my long years I have never met anyone like you. You learn so very quickly, and…and for that, I would be honored to continue being your teacher."

"Oh," Hermione said. "Um…all right then…"

"However," Legolas said quickly, smiling slightly, "I would never want to lose your friendship."

"Okay," Hermione said, smiling too.

"And if you…wish to be good friends…then you say it, and it shall be so," Legolas said vaguely.

"I…um…" Hermione paused. "I think…I think we…I think I want to learn some more Elvish," she said suddenly and unexpectedly.

There was a pause. "All right," Legolas said. "I…know it has been a while…"

"I don't remember much."

"What words do you remember?"

"Well…" Hermione paused, then smiled. "I remember what you are to me."

"What?"

"_Mellon_."

Legolas smiled back. "I do not think any in the Fellowship shall forget that…"

Hermione remembered the Gates of Moria, how she had scolded Ron, and how he hadn't rubbed it in her face when he ended up being right.

_Legolas or Ron? Ron or Legolas?_

"So, what shall I teach you next?" Legolas asked, beaming.

_Legolas._

-------------------------------------

He was concerned, worried, anxious, terrified, near petrified, repulsed, revolted, disturbed, frightened, ready to turn and run at any moment…

"Keep behind me. All will be well."

He was happy, so very happy, even proud to be where he was. It was a pleasant place, actually. He hadn't noticed how lovely it was before. All was well.

Wormtail smiled as he walked behind Saruman through the orc breeding pit. What had at once seemed stark and grotesque was made hazy and welcome by Saruman's comforting words.

Saruman stopped suddenly, beaming at an enormous Uruk-Hai who looked fresh out of the pits. "This is he," Saruman said to Wormtail. "This is Lurtz, the orc who will bring us the Ring."

"He looks very strong, Saruman," Wormtail said, smiling in approval. "I'm sure he'll get that Ring for you. If any orc can do it, it's him."

Saruman chuckled softly, then reached out a hand to Lurtz, almost as if to touch the orc, before drawing back. "Lurtz, I have a task for you. You will take a party of orcs to the Anduin River and ambush the Fellowship when they arrive. Capture the Halflings. Kill the rest."

Lurtz made a gurgling growl sound in reply.

"Good," Saruman said, turning and gliding along back up the muddy stairs and out of the pits, with Wormtail at his heels.

"Voldemort wanted Potter and Dumbledore to come to Mordor," Wormtail said, some anxiety returning. "If the orcs kill them…"

"Then his problem is solved," Saruman said confidently. "He will be grateful to us."

Wormtail grinned. "You are so brilliant, Saruman…"

They walked into Saruman's study; Wormtail was surprised to see Wormtongue sitting in Saruman's chair.

"Why, Wormtongue, we were not expecting you for some time," Saruman said. "What brings you here, my friend?"

"I have been sent as messenger, to you, from the Prince of Rohan," Wormtongue said with a scowl.

"Prince Théodred has sent you to me?"

"Yes. He has requested that you read this and respond to it, officially."

Wormtongue handed Saruman an elegantly wrapped scroll. Saruman glanced over the document before setting it on his desk. "Well, this is rather intimidating."

"It was signed by Théodred, but I suspect Éomer wrote it."

"Interesting. Well…tell Théodred that I will write no response, and I wish to meet him in person and address the issues."

"You…you do?" Wormtongue said, frowning.

Saruman smiled. "Of course not. I want to kill him."

"Brilliant!" Wormtail said happily; Wormtongue gave him a sour look, but he didn't seem to notice.

"If you want to kill the Prince, I could arrange it to happen on less suspicious grounds," Wormtongue offered.

"No…he must die in battle. This will motivate Éomer to rally the troops, so to speak…which King Théodred, under our influence, will firmly oppose. Rohan will be divided between the King and the young belligerent nephew…and then things begin to get interesting."

"An excellent plan!" Wormtail proclaimed.

"When and where shall be this meeting?" Wormtongue asked, still looking skeptical.

"That can be determined later. You must first propose the idea to him. We need more time to have the King completely in our grasp."

"I agree," Wormtongue said. "Although I have made much progress with him."

"Excellent. Well, Wormtongue, that will be all…but you could stay the night, if you'd like."

"I will."

"Wonderful. Wormtail will escort you to a room."

Saruman left the two in the study.

"Did you do something wrong?" Wormtongue asked.

"What?"

"Why are you constantly complimenting Saruman?"

Wormtail frowned. "Because…because he's brilliant, and wise, and good, and…"

Wormtongue rolled his eyes. "Well, I suppose if I spent so much time with him I might begin to lose it myself," he mumbled.

"I haven't lost anything!" Wormtail protested.

"Oh, but you have. You've lost your free will."

Wormtail blinked. "I…what do you mean?"

"You know what I do to King Théodred. Saruman has done the same to you."

"Done…done what?"

"Hypnotized you."

"But…no…no, you're wrong. I love Saruman. He doesn't need to hypnotize me."

"He does it regardless. Why not? With a word he can change the heart of any man…as he no doubt changes yours constantly. He enjoys your incessant proclamations of love and gratitude."

"You're wrong," Wormtail said firmly. "I love Saruman because he is good to me. He treats me better than anyone ever has. My friends at Hogwarts used to pick on me, the other Death Eaters picked on me, Voldemort tortured me…and then there was the whole rat thing…"

"You are nothing more than a pet rat now," Wormtongue said with a smirk. "Look at yourself. Your muddy clothes, your dirty face…what does he feed you?"

Wormtail opened his mouth to answer, but then stopped and frowned. He couldn't remember the last thing he'd had to eat. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd eaten.

"I support Saruman, but I do not worship him," Wormtongue said. "If it were not for the rewards I have been promised…and fear of opposing him…I would never do his bidding."

Wormtail stared silently at the ground. He was suddenly conscious of how dirty he really was, how hungry he was…

"I will show myself to a room," Wormtongue said, leaving the room.

Wormtail dropped into a seat, stunned by what he was experiencing. He had been so happy in Isengard, but had never before questioned that happiness. Now it all made sense. Saruman had hypnotized him.

_But maybe it isn't so bad…__Voldemort__ used magic to make me afraid all the time. If Saruman is __using magic to make me happy, what's so terrible about that?_

_Because I'm not happy. I shouldn't be happy. I haven't eaten in days, I'm tired, I'm dirty, I…feel…_

_Awful._

_I won't let him hypnotize me. Not anymore. I won't ever be a pet rat again._


	35. Chapter 35: Galadriel

Chapter 35

Galadriel

"We approach Lothlórien," Aragorn said with a look of relief.

"Would that it were summertime," Legolas said wistfully, looking ahead at the trees.

"Are you certain we must pass this way?" Boromir asked warily, looking ahead at the dark forest.

"Isn't it a bit late to turn back now?" Harry asked wearily.

"We would not turn back," Boromir said, raising his voice to attract the attention of the whole Fellowship. "We would turn to Gondor."

"But we're right here," Pippin said. "And the elves have food…"

"They also have magic," Boromir continued. "We have taken dangerous paths of magic, and see where it has gotten us? Saruman's spells and a beast of fire who has taken Gandalf from us!"

"You would trust Men to protect the Fellowship?" Legolas asked defensively. "Perhaps you have been influenced by their false wisdom."

"False wisdom?!" Boromir repeated angrily.

"In Gondor they speak ill of Lothlórien, and of its people, especially the Lady Galadriel," Aragorn explained. "They do not understand that only the evil need fear those who dwell in the forest."

Harry saw Frodo nervously reach for the Ring around his neck.

"Come," Aragorn said, walking forward toward the forest.

"Do you know this place?" Boromir asked curiously. "Have you been here before?"

Aragorn did not answer and continued walking along.

Boromir frowned and adjusted the shield on his back. Gimli walked up to him. "I agree with you, lad," he whispered. "These elves are trouble."

"If all could not be so blind to it…" Boromir muttered, shaking his head, then quickened his pace and grew silent.

------------------------------

"My Lady…the Fellowship approaches. We have seen their coming into the forest."

Galadriel nodded slowly. "I have Seen it as well."

"What shall we do?"

"Greet them. But do not welcome them."

"But…we are allowing all of them entrance?"

"Yes."

"And we are allowing all to pass unharmed?"

Galadriel smiled slightly. "Unharmed, yes. Unchanged…that is unlikely."

Haldir sighed impatiently. "My Lady, there is great risk in allowing…"

"The Ring should not be a concern for you."

"That is not my concern. I am more concerned about…" Haldir hesitated. "About _him_, my Lady."

Galadriel glared at him. "Do not speak of it," she said in a hushed voice.

"But you must have Seen…"

"I have made a grave error, and I wish not to speak of it."

"I…apologize."

"Go to them."

"Yes, my Lady."

----------------------------

"Lower your weapons," Aragorn ordered, squinting into the trees. "We do not wish to appear threatening."

"I will not lower my axe," Gimli said huffily.

"You will, or we will take it from you," an unfamiliar voice said.

Seemingly from out of nowhere elves emerged from the trees with bows pointed at the Fellowship.

Legolas and Aragorn both began speaking in another language to the elves while the others looked on worriedly. Luckily, though, the elves lowered their bows, and one of them came forward and spread his arms before the Fellowship.

"I am Haldir. The Lady Galadriel has permitted you passage through this land."

"Permitted us passage?" Frodo repeated. "She will not see us?"

"She…has ordered no summons," Haldir said vaguely.

"Then she knew of our arrival," Aragorn said, waiting for confirmation.

"Our…scouts observed you approaching the forest from the valley," Haldir said, avoiding eye contact with Aragorn and easily betraying his lie.

"Can we at the very least obtain provisions for our journey?" Legolas asked.

Haldir nodded, seeming more comfortable speaking to Legolas. "I will arrange it."

There was a pause.

"I…I will lead you to Caras Galadhon, and if the Lady and Lord should ask to see you…then it will be done," Haldir said. "If they do not, then I shall take you to the river, and you may depart as soon as possible."

"Thank you," Legolas said.

One of Haldir's archers said something in Elven that made Legolas frown. Haldir and the archer began to argue.

"Do you know what they're saying?" Harry whispered to Hermione.

"No, but I heard the word for 'dwarf,'" Hermione said. "I think they're arguing about whether or not to trust Gimli."

Haldir and the archer eventually stopped, and apparently the discussion had gone in Gimli's favor, because after a brief glance at the dwarf Haldir merely asked them all to follow him and his men as they trekked through the woods toward Caras Galadhon.

---------------------------

The journey was not long, but the Fellowship moved slowly through the trees following the elves. After several hours Haldir left them to go on ahead and alert his masters of their approach; about an hour later an elf sent back reported Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn did indeed want to see the Fellowship and they should proceed immediately to Caras Galadhon.

Night had fallen before they arrived at Caras Galadhon. The Fellowship was in a dream-like state as they glided up white stairs around a tree into which was not treehouse but a tree palace, a beautiful structure built into the trees themselves.

"The sights that greet my eyes have grown dark of late," Legolas said to Aragorn. "The Lady of Light will ease the pain of our suffering."

"Perhaps," Aragorn said quietly.

"Is something the matter?" Legolas asked, frowning.

"I have met many of the elves now surrounding us, but they do not greet me. They look at me strangely, as though they do not know me."

Legolas nodded. "I, too, feel as though I am an outsider here. Lothlórien is not as welcoming as I had hoped…but not as cold as I had feared. At least the Lady Galadriel will speak with us."

Aragorn nodded. "That may help things."

The Fellowship finally made it to the palace itself, where a brilliant ethereal light clouded two figures seated on thrones. When all of the Fellowship had assembled before the thrones, the figures rose and came forward until they could be seen by all.

Aragorn and Legolas bowed respectfully. The others stared dumbly at the beautiful figures.

Lord Celeborn looked confused as he surveyed the Fellowship. "News from Rivendell has told me of your quest, but I do not see Gandalf among you. Where is he?"

The pain struck some of the Fellowship hard as they remembered their loss. It was Legolas who spoke. "He was slain by a Balrog of Morgoth," he said quietly.

Celeborn was stunned. Galadriel's eyes turned from Legolas to Dumbledore. "He fell into Shadow," she whispered.

Dumbledore's eyes widened.

"I am sorry to hear this news," Celeborn said. "You are all welcome here in Lothlórien. Stay for as long as you see wise. You may enjoy whatever comforts you can find here before you resume your difficult journey."

"Perhaps the greatest aid we may receive here is wisdom," Legolas said, looking at Galadriel. "If you would offer it to us."

"You have all seen much peril," Galadriel said, looking not just at Legolas but every Fellowship member. "Although you may not recognize it, every one of you has played a great part in this quest, and all of you have purposes yet to be discovered. I cannot offer wisdom to the Fellowship, for its survival is dependent on the integrity of those within it. I can speak to you individually, and help you so far as my abilities allow."

The Fellowship was surprised by this news. Celeborn was also looking at her strangely, as though he didn't understand what she said. Only Haldir appeared unaffected.

"I will take you to a place where you may rest," he said.

----------------------------------------

The Fellowship was settled by a clear stream near the base of the trees, preparing for a comfortable rest on the soft sleeping rolls loaned by the elves. They listened silently to the elves' lament for Gandalf, which none but Legolas and Aragorn understood, and which neither would translate.

Harry sat cleaning his glasses at the stream, startled when someone approached from behind. Without his glasses he couldn't tell immediately who it was, but he recognized the voice.

"The elves have some skill with glass," Legolas offered. "They may be able to repair some of the scratches."

"Thanks, but it's not so bad," Harry said, putting the glasses back on and looking away from the elf.

Legolas nodded and left. Harry suddenly felt rather ashamed; Legolas looked disturbed and was probably only trying to distract himself with some conversation.

"Good move," Harry heard suddenly, and he turned. Ron was approaching.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Not handing over your glasses to those elves. I don't trust them."

"Me neither," Harry admitted. "The elves in Rivendell were pretty strange, but these ones…" Harry shook his head.

Ron nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I don't really know what to make of them…" he paused. "I was just thinking something…when that elf lady said she would talk to everyone individually, she didn't mean us, right?"

"No, I don't think so. She probably meant the important people…you know, Frodo, and Aragorn, and Legolas."

"For the first time, not you," Ron said with a small smile. "They've never heard of 'The Boy Who Lived' in Lothlórien."

Harry was silent. Ron looked guilty. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"

"It's okay," Harry said. "You're right. I don't really do much good."

"You will," Ron said seriously. "You'll rescue Ginny. The elves can't do that."

"They probably don't even care about Ginny. They only care about the Ring."

Ron nodded silently. Harry realized this was one of the only times since her capture that Ron had spoken Ginny's name aloud.

Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw Aragorn rise to his feet. Haldir was approaching.

"The Lady has requested to see Harry Potter," he announced.

Harry was shocked. Ron smiled. "I guess maybe she has heard about you."

"Or maybe she does care about Ginny."

Harry followed Haldir along a barely recognizable path through the trees to a garden. "Follow those steps down to a hollow," Haldir said. "The Lady is waiting."

Harry nervously walked forward. Galadriel was standing next to a large basin filled with what appeared to be water but had an almost magical glow.

"What is that?" Harry asked curiously; he was reminded of a penseive, but the material inside this basin was clear.

"It is my mirror…" Galadriel paused, then smiled. "And it is no concern of yours."

"Why did you ask to see me?"

"I wish to offer you guidance, as I will be doing for all of the Fellowship."

"Oh…all right…um…so what did you want to tell me?"

"I know much about you, Harry Potter. I cannot See into your world, but I can See into the past as remembered by you and your companions, and I have glimpses of your possible future here."

Galadriel's dramatic tone reminded Harry of Professor Trelawney's wild predictions, and he wondered how much this elf could really See.

"You were a hero in your world," Galadriel began. "You alone were believed to be the one with the power that could destroy your Dark Lord."

"Well, not really," Harry said, frowning. "I mean, Dumbledore…"

"Dumbledore believes this."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh…"

"But while your talents in the other world were enough to stand against Lord Voldemort…here things are very different."

"I know," Harry said, a little impatiently; the last thing he needed was to be reminded how pathetic he was without his wand. "I know I don't have my wand…"

"Your enemy does. And while you may have recognized that, you are a fool to think that is his only advantage."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, becoming more annoyed.

"Voldemort found the entrance to this world. Look at how far you have come, in so many days; Voldemort had reached Mordor before you even had sight or knowledge of Rivendell! What you do not seem to realize, Harry Potter, is that your enemy not only possesses the magic of your world—a wand—but he has also developed a strong magical connection to _this_ world. And you have no understanding of this magic."

"So you're saying I have no chance," Harry said bitterly.

Galadriel's face softened. "No more chance than a hobbit trying to destroy the Ring of the Enemy."

Harry was silent for a moment, then said, "You said you were going to help me, but all you've done is make me feel like I don't have a chance."

"That was not my intention."

"Then what was your intention?"

"To give you a different perspective. You must understand, Harry Potter, that attributes you previously viewed as strengths will be of no help to you here…and I give you a warning. I have Seen a terrible tragedy in your future, a result of carelessness, that betrays a great weakness."

"What's my weakness?"

"I cannot tell you."

"Why not?!"

"Because…because it is what you can see and cannot see. You must change your own perceptions and perspectives."

"That doesn't make any sense!"

Galadriel turned away. "I can give you nothing more."

"You think that was supposed to help me? I might as well give up right now!"

Galadriel turned back suddenly, violently. "I have witnessed a past where the treachery of Men struck this world harder than the blow of the Enemy, and I have Seen a future where the name of Lord Voldemort brings as great a fear as that of Sauron. Voldemort is your enemy, and you are tasked to destroy him. You cannot thrust that responsibility upon any from our world, and especially not Frodo Baggins, who will suffer and is already suffering more than you can ever know under the weight of his burden. You cannot choose whether or not to attempt to destroy Voldemort based upon the probability of your victory. You _must_ destroy him."

Harry stood in stunned silence. The Lady Galadriel, who clearly had the ability to foresee the future, who radiated magical light and beauty, who possessed thousands upon thousands of years of elf wisdom, had just revealed how truly terrified she was of Voldemort. Harry could not fathom how a mere mortal Voldemort could possibly pose as a threat comparable to the demigod Dark Lord Sauron, but it was as Galadriel had warned—there was definitely something he was not seeing.

"Go," Galadriel said, her voice again softening. "I hope that my warning will provide some help to you…and know that what I have spoken to you is for you alone."

Harry turned and walked away, and something occurred to him that had never occurred before.

In all his daydreams and envisages of how this all might end, he had imagined himself, Ron, Hermione, and Dumbledore carrying a tired but grateful Ginny from an enormous black tower, running past Death Eaters and orcs while Voldemort futilely fired spells behind them. He imagined them returning home together, being received as heroes, repeating their unbelievable stories of near escape again and again…

But what of Voldemort?

Dumbledore had always made it sound like Voldemort was his responsibility, but Galadriel seemed to think it was Harry's. One thing was certain—they couldn't simply rescue Ginny and leave Voldemort behind to terrorize Middle-earth.

_I'll have to kill him_.

Harry had no idea how it could be done, but this simple fact became a resolution in his mind that he was determined to follow at all costs.

-------------------------------

The Fellowship ended up spending many days in Lothlórien, and the long break was relieving to the Fellowship, who began to become aware of the physical and mental toll that the long marches without decent rest had caused. But whether because of the general weariness, the unwelcoming nature of their hosts, or something fundamentally unsettling about the forest itself, individuals kept mostly to themselves. The Fellowship ate and rested most of the day, speaking little to each other and less to the elves. But the languid days brought strange nights as every night Haldir arrived at the Fellowship's camp summoning away another person to speak to Galadriel.

Most had been surprised by Harry's summoning; everyone was surprised when Pippin was summoned the next night.

Pippin followed the same path as Harry, arriving at the mirror of Galadriel.

"Peregrin Took," she said softly. "You are so full of hope…it pains me to take any away from you."

Pippin frowned. "And…why would you do that? Take away hope, I mean?"

"Because you do not understand that what lies ahead is sorrow and terror."

Pippin swallowed. "With all due respect…I was there when Gandalf…when he fell. I know this quest isn't…it isn't what I thought it was when I left Rivendell."

"Do you truly believe yourself ready for what it may become?"

"I…I do."

Galadriel took a step toward him. "Peregrin Took, I would like you to step forward and look into my mirror."

"You mean…that thing?" Pippin asked nervously. "What'll it do?"

"It will show you things that I cannot tell you."

"Do I…do I just stand above it, and look into it?"

"Yes…and do not touch the water."

Pippin was concerned, but his curiosity got the better of him and he looked inside.

He thought it might show peril, or the sorrow that Galadriel had described for his future, but instead he saw something more painful—the Shire. He saw friends and relatives laughing at pubs, gardening, playing with children, eating, dancing…

Pippin watched glimpses of life at home fly by before he could no longer stand it and looked away.

"What did you See?" Galadriel asked, although it appeared she already knew.

"The Shire," Pippin said quietly.

Galadriel nodded. "You have Seen the present…that is where you would be if you had not joined this quest…and where you could be again if you turn back."

"Turn back?" Pippin repeated, blinking.

"Yes…go back to the Shire. Leave the Fellowship."

"But…but we're too far out, I can't go back, the others would never leave, I couldn't go on my own…"

"A small party of elves is leaving the forest for Rivendell this very night. You would be no burden to them on their journey, and from Rivendell you could easily find passage to your homeland."

Pippin stared at Galadriel. There was no doubt in his mind her words were genuine.

"What would I tell them?" Pippin whispered.

"You need tell them nothing," Galadriel said simply. "Haldir could take you to those departing, and you could leave at once."

Pippin weighed the options. Darkness, sorrow, danger…or the Shire…

If he left he would be a coward. Frodo, Sam, Merry, Neville…they weren't any stronger than he, but they were continuing on, willing to fight, willing to face Mordor…

But was he a coward? He had braved Caradhras, faced a Balrog of Moria, bravely defended his comrades…he had come all this way. No hobbit save Bilbo and the others in the Fellowship had ever done so much. How could anyone call him a coward after all that?

It didn't matter what people called him. If he left, he would be a coward, and he would know it, regardless of other opinions.

"I can't," Pippin said decidedly. "I won't leave my friends."

"Then great horrors await you," Galadriel said. "But perhaps your presence will lessen these horrors for the others who will continue on."

Pippin hesitated. "Thank you, for…for offering to take me home. I…I appreciate it, even though…I can't."

"You are most welcome."

Pippin bowed and left.

---------------------------------

The following night Haldir came for Gimli.

Gimli hesitantly walked down the stairs to the hollow, keeping his eyes turned away from Galadriel, until he finally came before her. He bowed deeply. "My Lady," he whispered, still not looking at her.

"Gimli…why do you look to the ground?"

"I…I cannot…I…am not…worthy, to…look upon you, my Lady," he mumbled.

"Look upon me, Gimli. It is my wish."

Gimli swallowed, then slowly straightened until he was looking up at her. His eyes widened. "You are fairer than anything my eyes have ever seen," he said.

Galadriel smiled. "You are much more than I expected, Gimli son of Glóin. I am proud to receive such praise from you."

"But…but I am not…I am merely a humble dwarf, I have nothing comparable to…"

"You have much that others do not see. Tell me…when you arrived at Lothlórien, what did you anticipate?"

"I…I must be honest with you, Lady…I did not expect much. Some trees, and…well…forgive me, my Lady, but I thought of you as an elf-witch, demonic, a temptress or spell-caster who would bode ill for us."

"And what do you see now?"

"I see beauty, Lady, in its purest form…and I feel a peace here that I have not known for many years."

"It takes courage many do not have for one to admit such things. You, Gimli son of Glóin, possess a remarkable gift of perception I have never witnessed from one of your race. Although you form preconceptions as all do, you ultimately see things as they are, and not as you hope or fear them to be. And so my counsel to you is less harsh than to most others—I merely remind you of your most important strength, the ability to discern truths from observation and not emotion. In the troubled times that lie ahead many will be driven by hope and fear to believe what is not so. If you can recognize a friend where you have one, and caution him against his emotions driving him to wrong, then you can spare future tragedy."

Gimli bowed his head again. "I will do my very best to serve you, Lady."

"Go, Gimli son of Glóin, with my blessing."

Gimli blushed and shuffled off.

----------------------------------

The next night, Neville was summoned.

Haldir had relayed the message to all of the Fellowship that whatever Galadriel told them was not to be repeated, but Pippin had spilled the entire story of her talk with him and the mirror to Merry and Neville. And so Neville approached very nervously, fearing that what were in store for him were visions of Hogwarts and everything he missed so much about home.

"Welcome, Neville Longbottom," Galadriel said, "and do not fear."

Neville was only slightly reassured. "I…I'm not scared," he lied. "I'm just…I'm sort of surprised, really, I mean…that you'd want to talk to me."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well…I don't think I…I mean…"

"You think yourself unimportant?"

"No. Well…yes, I guess. Sort of. I mean I know I can help out, but…"

"At the Council of Elrond you encouraged Frodo to take the Ring."

Neville blinked. "Well…yes."

"Can you imagine what might have occurred had you not been there? Or had you simply remained silent, withheld your opinion?"

"I…I guess Frodo wouldn't have taken the Ring."

"Your actions may have saved this world."

"Well, I…I guess…but it's not like the others haven't done more. Aragorn's always saving our lives, and Dumbledore and Harry and the others know a lot more about what's going on than I do…"

"I See a memory," Galadriel said in a distant voice. "A memory you recall proudly. You have won a trophy for a group at your school…and Dumbledore has told you that while it takes courage to stand up to an enemy, it takes even greater courage to stand up to a friend."

Neville blushed, looking away. "It…it feels like forever ago that that happened."

"Dumbledore spoke great wisdom to you. And I wish for you to continue to remember what he told you. For there will come a time, Neville Longbottom, when the decision not to stand up to a friend will not cost a trophy…it will cost a life."

Neville's eyes snapped up. "You mean…you mean someone else is going to die?"

"If you do not prevent it, yes."

"I…I can't!" Neville cried frantically. "I can't…I can't be trusted to save someone's life…I'm not…I'm not brave like Harry, or smart like Hermione, or powerful like Dumbledore or any of them! I can't…"

"You can," Galadriel said. "You have the ability. You have the courage. As long as you do not let indecision plague you, you shall become more valuable to this Fellowship than you could have ever anticipated."

Neville stood silent for a moment, then said quietly, "I…I'll remember that. I won't…hesitate. I'll keep trying to help as much as I can."

"I am glad of it," Galadriel said, and Neville left.

----------------------------

The next person summoned was Boromir. Unlike Gimli, he had not grown fond of Lothlórien since his arrival, and was not welcoming his meeting with Galadriel.

"Boromir," she said, greeting him.

"Lady," Boromir said, "I do not understand why you are summoning us one by one each night merely to give cryptic messages."

"Who has told you that is my intention?"

"It may not be your intention, but that is all it amounts to. If you truly have the gift of foresight, then tell us exactly what it is you See! Do not amount this all to warnings that cannot be understood until after danger has passed and their purpose has failed."

Galadriel's eyes narrowed, and the aura of light around her seemed to glow more brightly, as though anger increased its radiation. "You would have me tell you exactly what I See in your future?"

"Yes!"

"I See betrayal and death."

There was a pause.

"Whose betrayal?" Boromir asked, trying to keep a level voice. "Whose death?"

"Yours."

"You mean to say," Boromir said, his voice now trembling, "that I am betrayed, and killed?"

"No. I mean to say that you betray the Fellowship, and then you are killed."

Boromir stared at Galadriel for a few moments before asking, "How can this be prevented?"

"It cannot."

"No!" Boromir shouted. "There is no future that cannot be prevented!"

"Is that the wisdom of Men?"

"I know what you want from me. You wish for me to be afraid, to be cautious, or to abandon the Fellowship for fear of death, but I will do no such thing! You have Seen no betrayal! You have no faith in Men, so you say to me that I shall betray, but you are wrong! My heart is true."

"Believe what you will," Galadriel said. "I know what I have Seen."

"Then perhaps your Sight is more flawed than my loyalty."

"For your sake, I do hope so."

Boromir turned and left, his fear of what she had said evaporating, replaced by a determination to prove the elf-witch wrong.

-------------------------------

The following night, Hermione was summoned. She walked along with Haldir; although the elf seemed content to be silent, Hermione attempted to strike up a conversation.

"I've been learning some Elvish," she said. "Well, Sindarin, mostly, but I know a few phrases from the other one. I noticed you speak a different dialect than Legolas. He's from a different forest than you, but you're both wood elves, and I know there are other kinds of elves like sea elves and such, and I was wondering why if there were only two languages there would be two different groups of wood elves living relatively close together who speak different languages."

Haldir did not answer.

"What I mean is," Hermione continued, thinking it was because she had been unclear, "you'd think that all the wood elves would speak one language, and the sea elves would speak another, right? So why do you speak different languages…you and Legolas, I mean?"

"We are nearly there," Haldir said, as though he had not been paying any attention to her.

Hermione frowned and remained silent until Haldir stopped. "The Lady will be waiting down the stairs," he said.

"Namárië," Hermione said; Haldir seemed slightly annoyed and said nothing in return.

Hermione went down the stairs and faced Galadriel. "Suilad," she said brightly.

Galadriel's eyes narrowed. "You have no right to approach me in such a fashion."

Hermione frowned. "I…I didn't mean any disrespect…I just wanted to…"

"You are a child," Galadriel hissed. "Fifteen years you have lived and breathed…scarcely a heartbeat! And yet you parade as one of us, as though your talent for memorizing facts and figures is comparable to the wisdom of my people!"

Hermione quickly became infuriated. "I do not 'parade' around! I appreciate your culture and history…"

"Our history! What do you know of our history?"

"Legolas has told me a lot about…"

"You are selfish," Galadriel sneered. "You are not satisfied with your own achievements until everyone proclaims them great. You seek to impress others with what you do not have. You do not even have the level of maturity that is expected of those of your age and race!"

Hermione's lip trembled; tears were starting to form in her eyes. "You're wrong," she whispered, and she turned and ran back up the stairs.

"Shall I…" Haldir started.

"I'll find my own way back," Hermione stammered, running past him.

Haldir frowned and went down the stairs to Galadriel. "The girl is offensive, surely, but was that really necessary?"

"Yes," Galadriel said darkly. "You do not know what I have Seen…what horror she is capable of."

"Horror?"

Galadriel nodded, beckoning Haldir closer.

Hermione returned to the camp in tears. Everyone stared at her; some offered reassuring words, thinking her to be merely disturbed by something Galadriel had shown her.

Ron approached her. "Hermione…you all right?"

"Leave me alone," Hermione said, pushing past him. Ron stepped forward to go after her, then hesitated and returned to his sleeping roll.

It was Legolas who came after her. When Hermione considered herself far enough away from the camp, she sat down, and he sat next to her.

"I know you cannot tell me what she said, but…" he started.

"She didn't tell me anything," Hermione said bitterly. "She just stood there and insulted me."

"Insulted…what do you mean?"

"She yelled at me, called me a child, said I paraded around like an elf…"

"Perhaps you misunderstood…"

"She was cruel. I've never heard anyone say those kinds of things to someone's face before."

Legolas rose. "I will speak with her."

"No…"

"I must."

Legolas turned and, passing the camp, found his way to Galadriel's hollow. Galadriel stood next to her mirror, seemingly deep in thought.

"You were not summoned," she said quietly to Legolas.

"I have come out of confusion. Whatever message you intended to give to Hermione…she misunderstood."

"I do not believe so."

"She said you gave no counsel, and simply insulted her."

"As I did."

"Then what was your intention?"

"What does any insult intend? It addresses flaws and demands change."

"But to call her a child, to say she mocks us…"

"Does she not?"

"She means no harm…she wishes to learn."

"And you teach her."

"Yes."

"You have taught her history."

"Yes."

"Have you taught her of He Who is Forgotten, and the evil and weakness of her people?"

Legolas straightened. "I would never tell her of it."

"At this moment you may think not. But as this quest continues you will feel more and more compelled to."

"I will never be tempted."

"You flatter yourself. Many a time I longed to tell Gandalf of it…it pained me to keep it from him. But like the Ring, our secret is a power that cannot be lent to allies, for through a desire to do good only evil would come."

"I understand. You do not grant me the trust I deserve."

"You love her."

"I…I respect her…"

"You love her. And there will come a time when she will be completely honest with you, and you will wish to be honest with her."

"You have Seen this?"

"I have Seen much concerning the two of you."

Legolas opened his mouth to speak, then hesitated. Galadriel was staring hard at him; he looked away. "You wish for me to end it. To stop teaching her, and encourage her to abandon her interest in our people."

"Yes."

"I will not."

"Then I will have to trust you not to betray our secret to her."

"I would not betray our secret to any."

"I shall give you one final warning. Legolas…you must not let her know you are keeping something from her. For her to recognize that you have a secret, but not know what it is…you would be troubled."

"I understand."

"You must also dissuade any suspicions she has of Aragorn."

"Of course."

"Then go."

Legolas bowed his head and left.

Haldir emerged from behind a bush the moment Legolas had gone. "I am shocked," he said, and he looked it. "I had thought Legolas to be wise…"

"He is a fool."

"Why did you not tell him of what the girl will do?"

"Because he would try to stop it."

"You…you do not want it prevented?"

"No."

Haldir raised his eyebrows. "I see…"

Most of the camp was asleep when Legolas returned. Aragorn glanced questioningly at him; he ignored him and went over to where Hermione still sat against a large tree.

"What did she say?" Hermione asked.

"She is proud, and fixed upon the old ways. She insulted you because your interest in us insulted her. But she has seen her wrong."

Hermione looked up skeptically. "She has?"

Legolas smiled. "I believe I may have embarrassed her."

Hermione smiled back. "Thank you for…for talking to her. I shouldn't have been so upset, I…what she said wasn't true."

"She believes the weaknesses of one man apply to all Men."

"Racist," Hermione muttered.

"I am glad that you are feeling better."

"Yeah, I…" Hermione stopped, looking into Legolas' eyes. "I understand that what you did for me…it's more than just a favor. Galadriel is very respected among your people, but…you still took my side over hers."

"She was the one at fault."

"But you believed me, when I said she was."

"You are not as foolish as she would have you think."

There was a long silence where they both stared at one another. Then, Legolas unexpectedly put his arm around her.

"This is a beautiful place. Rest, Hermione, and let nothing more trouble you."

Hermione hesitated, then put her head on Legolas' shoulder.

"Sleep, Hermione," Legolas whispered.

Hermione closed her eyes.

The moment she had, Legolas' peaceful look vanished as he stared off into the forest, troubled with thoughts of what was to come.

--------------------------------

Merry was summoned the next night. He walked down to the hollow following Haldir along the same path as everyone else.

"Lady," he said, bowing and trying to look respectful.

"Meriadoc Brandybuck…you are not yet worthy of my respect."

Merry was not surprised, but still annoyed. "I heard that you've been critical of people."

"Critical? Yes, that is accurate. I bring to light flaws that others cannot see."

"And what are my flaws, Lady?"

"You speak without hesitation."

"I'm not afraid."

"What an irony."

Merry frowned. "Irony?"

"You are a coward."

Merry shifted his weight. "Well…um…anything else?"

Galadriel stepped forward. "This is not a game. This is a life."

"I…I'm not sure wh…"

"Come forward, and look into my mirror."

"Wh…"

"Come."

Merry hesitantly approached the mirror.

"Do not touch the water," she advised.

"I just…"

"Look inside."

Merry swallowed nervously and looked in.

The surface of the water seemed to ripple, and then an image appeared that was not Merry's reflection. It was dark, and he couldn't tell what it was supposed to be at first until two figures came into the lamplight and he realized who they were.

"No," Merry whispered, but he could not look away.

Merry watched he and Ginny walking together along the street in Bree, and then the rider approached, and Ginny screamed, and Merry froze. Everything seemed to move more slowly as Merry watched himself standing there, staring, while Ginny was trying to get out of the way, while she needed his help…and then the unbelievable happened.

Merry, in the image, grabbed Ginny at the last moment. The horse turned sharply after the rider missed its target—too sharply for the inexperienced rider. He fell off, landing hard on the ground, unmoving.

Ginny and Merry screamed for help, and several images flashed by in quick succession. Aragorn rushed forward and slew the rider, Ginny was comforted by her brother…now they were at the Council of Elrond, except Ginny was there…and then they were greeting each other…no, they were saying goodbye. Ginny and Neville were going home, back to the white tree, and Pippin was going back to the forest with them, before he would head home himself, to the Shire. Merry would continue on. Aragorn had called him brave and true, and a necessary addition to the Fellowship, but there was no reason for Neville and Ginny and Pippin to risk their lives for the Ring…

The images faded, and Merry drew back, tears in his eyes.

"A single action," Galadriel said. "A single moment, a single movement of the hand…and Ginny would be back in her world, safe in her home, and not in Mordor, being tortured."

Merry wiped away the tears. "Not for long," he said resolutely. "She's out there, and she's waiting for me. And I'll come. I'll rescue her, because…because I failed her, and I won't ever rest until she's home and safe."

"A time will come when the lives of many will depend on a single moment, and a movement of the hand…a single hobbit's courage."

"Frodo can do it."

"I am not speaking of Frodo and the Ring. I speak of you."

"Then…then I will be ready," Merry said, standing up as straight as he could.

Galadriel smiled. "I am glad. Too often the wisdom of elves is misinterpreted, or…unwelcome. But you have accepted my warning, and you will be the better for it. Go, Meriadoc Brandybuck, and may your heart be full, as you no longer think back to what you may have done, but rather what you will do."

------------------------------

The following night it was Ron's turn. He was increasingly nervous as he approached Galadriel; he felt like he was walking into one of Snape's Potions exams without having studied.

"Ronald Weasley," Galadriel said solemnly. "Know that what I speak to you now is not intended to harm, but rather to prevent future sorrow."

"Okay," Ron said, trying to keep his hands from shaking.

"Ronald Weasley," she repeated, "you seek to save what is already lost."

"Wh…what do you mean?"

"You have journeyed all this way to save your sister, but she is already gone."

"She…she's not…"

"She is not dead. But the innocent girl you once knew as your sister is lost. A future of peace and happiness is no longer possible for her now."

"It is still possible. I'm going to bring her home."

"You do not understand the magnitude of what has been done to her."

"I know about Y…about Voldemort. I know about the Unforgivable Curses."

"Much of the harm she has received has not been magical."

"You…what are you…"

"Before you is my mirror. It can show glimpses of the present, the past…and the possible future. But there are some things it cannot show. Sauron prevents me from seeing much inside Mordor, except brief flashes…and all have been of your sister. But I can only See for a few seconds before Sauron becomes aware and drives me away. Being unfamiliar to Sauron, you may have a few more seconds than I."

"You mean…it'll show me her? Like…what she's doing right now, over there?"

"Yes, briefly."

"Then let me see her."

"Be prepared, for whatever you see shall be disturbing to you."

"I want to see her."

"Then look into my mirror, and do not touch the water."

Ron bent over to see inside; Galadriel closed her eyes and concentrated her power.

Ron's eyes widened as he saw a dark room. Ginny was standing there, leaning against the wall. She looked terrible. Her clothes were dirty, her hair was matted and tangled, her skin was incredibly pale, and her arms and legs were skinny, so skinny, practically just bone…

She was looking at something Ron couldn't see; she was talking, but he couldn't hear the words. She looked confused, almost frightened…

Draco Malfoy was walking up to her.

Ron clenched his jaw as he watched, wishing he could hear what they were saying, willing Malfoy to turn around and leave.

He reached out. He touched her. He kissed her.

She pulled away from him and started backing away; he grabbed her forcefully and pushed her into the wall.

"No!" Ron screamed, and the image suddenly disappeared, replaced by a single eye, a terrifying burning red eye, but only for a second. Galadriel pulled him back.

"Get away from her!" Ron shouted, burying his face in his hands and sobbing. "Get away…"

"She is not the same," Galadriel said quietly. "She will never be the same."

Ron wiped his eyes even as the tears continued to fall. "I'll kill the bastard," he said through gritted teeth. "I'll torture him with Voldemort's wand, then shove it down his throat…"

"Go now," Galadriel said, and Ron saw that she also looked shaken.

Ron turned and walked away, trying not to think about Ginny, but instead focusing on how he would enact his revenge against Draco Malfoy.

----------------------------

The following night Haldir came for Dumbledore. The old wizard followed the elf and approached Galadriel with much caution.

"Welcome, Albus Dumbledore," Galadriel said. "And I do welcome you gratefully, and with hope that you may forgive me."

"Forgive you?"

"I made assumptions about you…and I told others not to trust you."

"Told whom?"

"Elrond…and Gandalf."

"If you told Gandalf not to trust me, I do not believe he ever acted upon it."

"I am glad. I made a grave error. I foresaw the coming of a powerful wizard into this world, a wizard who would bring great darkness…I thought you were this wizard, but I now recognize him to be your enemy, Voldemort."

Dumbledore wondered how she could have thought it was him in the first place, but didn't ask; instead, he said something he had been meaning to ask her ever since she started summoning people. "I…have a question for you. With your power and wisdom…what do you think of Aragorn?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I could be very much mistaken, but I believe I have…sensed something from him."

Galadriel thought for a moment, then said carefully, "Albus Dumbledore…you will be tested. And if you should pass the test, then all will be made known to you. But otherwise know that what you sense is not danger or evil, and you should not fear."

"I will trust you…but what do you mean when you say that I will be tested?"

"I cannot say for now, but you will soon know. I…I am able to give you no warning, and no counsel. All I can give you is a gift."

"What gift?"

"My mirror can show much. If you look into it, you can see what is happening in your world. I know how your heart is troubled with thoughts of it."

"How can it show my world? What magic allows you to do this?"

"It is not my magic, but yours, that will allow you to see the present as it is in your world."

"What part of my world will it show?"

"Only what you ask of it. But not everything you ask."

Dumbledore approached the mirror and looked inside.

"Focus on the images of your world," Galadriel said.

Dumbledore focused as directly as he could on Hogwarts—the Great Hall, the Grand Staircase, his office…for a moment, the reflections of his memory shone on the surface of the water, but then there was a ripple and different images appeared.

The halls seemed empty at first glance, but then he saw students. They were hurrying in different directions as though late to class, none lingering, none speaking, looking almost terrified…then Dumbledore saw something strange. There were signs on the walls, framed parchments with strange writing. "Educational Decree Number Seventeen…"

Dumbledore, shocked, focused on the memory of his Headmaster's office. He immediately knew McGonagall was not Headmistress; the office had been transformed, all of the portraits of past Headmasters removed from the walls and replaced with pictures of kittens. Sitting in his chair, sipping tea and looking very pleased with herself, was Dolores Umbridge, known pawn of Fudge and Ministry tyrant.

Dumbledore tried desperately to see more, but as his emotions heightened the images became more obscure. He tried to see the Death Eaters, but only caught a brief glimpse of Bellatrix Lestrange and Snape standing close together in a dark area; he tried to see the Order, but saw only Mrs. Weasley lying in bed, in broad daylight, and she looked ill, very ill…

Dumbledore wanted to see the Ministry, he wanted to see more of Hogwarts, but the images faded into blackness, and then he could see only his own reflection on the surface of the water.

"I am sorry that the mirror could not ease your troubled thoughts," Galadriel said sincerely.

Dumbledore thought for a moment, then said quietly, "I have seen much that disturbs me, but…I should be grateful. My world seems to be in no greater danger than this one."

"I wish you well, Albus Dumbledore. May you pass your test, and gain wisdom."

---------------------------

The night after Dumbledore Frodo was summoned, and Sam went with him without objection from Haldir. The following night only Aragorn had not visited Galadriel, and everyone assumed Haldir would come for him. Haldir did indeed arrive at the camp and go to Aragorn, but after a very brief talk the elf walked away, and Aragorn announced that they would be leaving Lothlórien the next morning.

Although the rest had been appreciated, none of the Fellowship wished to stay any longer. Those who had received Galadriel's counsel warmly were eager to discover their true meaning, and those offended or put at unease by her words were equally eager to leave the strange forest behind.

As they walked toward the riverbank the morning of the departure, however, one final thought (muttered bitterly by Boromir, and passed around) rang in the Fellowship's minds—there were no more forests or villages, no more elf counsel or lodgings, waiting for them along their chosen path. Unless Boromir somehow got his way, they would avoid Gondor and head straight to the Black Gate. There were no safe havens between the Fellowship and the land of the enemy.

A party of elves awaited the Fellowship at the edge of the river, bearing gifts. All received cloaks, and most received weapons; Frodo, Gimli, and Sam had special gifts, and Dumbledore received no gift additional to the cloak, although he did not seem discontented. Aragorn was not given anything by Galadriel, but Celeborn presented him with a small curved blade.

With provisions already loaded, the Fellowship boarded the small boats that would take them down the River Anduin, toward Mordor. Harry, wearing his elven cloak and huddled in a boat with Boromir, Ron, and Pippin, looked out at the vague, misty area ahead and felt like he was back in his first year, sailing toward Hogwarts and an uncertain future.

As they boats began to depart, Galadriel spoke out in a clear, loud voice to the lead boat, "Farewell, Elessar. Do not lead them astray."

Aragorn looked at her curiously, then tightened his grip on the paddle and turned away.


	36. Chapter 36: Reversal

A/N: Sorry this took me so long to write, it was really difficult! Forgive me for any mistakes, I ended up having to rush this.

Chapter 36

Reversal

While the Fellowship was traveling to and resting in Lothlórien, Sirius Black's condition in Edoras was greatly improving. After pacing around Éowyn's room several times he found that he could walk very well as a dog and with much less difficulty as a human. Many of his bandages were removed, and his overall appearance was much healthier.

Another significant change was the way in which he was being received by the palace residents and soldiers. Where he was once a nuisance permitted only through the influence of Théodred and Éowyn, he was now treated quite well by most of the people he encountered on his walks, who were becoming used to his presence. Very few people looked at him with distaste, and he often received pats on the head or (if he was lucky) some scraps of food.

These developments couldn't have been more timely for Sirius. Éowyn was unexpectedly requested to leave Edoras for a brief period of time to visit a village where some refugees from a recent orc attack had gathered. Although certainly not a major issue, the question of caring for her dog was brought up, and Éomer suggested that Sirius, now looking better, should be set free. Théodred's insistence and the dog's newfound popularity, however, made the issue a benefit rather than a danger, improving his situation; Sirius was given the freedom to roam around the palace and even sleep in Éowyn's unoccupied room at night.

Sirius was elated with the development not just because he could wander as he pleased; mostly, he was glad not to be stuck with Théodred. His rather favorable opinion of the strange prince had vanished when Éowyn revealed her feelings for him, and had been growing steadily worse. Éowyn, who had initially been so reluctant to reveal her feelings, was eager to describe Théodred's admirable attributes once she had disclosed her secret, and nearly every night Sirius would force himself to listen to all the wonderful things she had to say about her cousin. Inwardly, Sirius kept these things in mind, and in observations of Théodred convinced himself that Éowyn's opinion was misguided.

Sirius tried very hard to convince Éowyn to reveal her feelings to Théodred, certain that if he heard her repeat some of the things she had said to Sirius the prince would immediately turn her down, but Éowyn mournfully admitted that Théodred almost definitely did not have the same feelings for her and refused to glean a hint of her secret admiration to him.

But Théodred knew that while Éowyn was gone Sirius needed someone to talk to so that he wouldn't have to be a dog all day. So Théodred intended to spend a lot of time talking to Sirius. And Sirius intended to do something productive with that time.

The more Éowyn spoke about it, the more Sirius was convinced that she could never be happy loving Théodred, and the more resolute he became about doing everything he could to prevent them from getting together. And so he decided that the first chance he got he would directly address the problem to Théodred and see what happened from there.

It was evening, just past dinner, on the day of Éowyn's departure (which had occurred earlier that morning) when Sirius the dog casually approached Théodred's room, pausing to growl at Wormtongue, who was skulking about in the hallway. The door was partway open; Théodred was discussing something with Éomer, who was just leaving when Sirius arrived. He slipped in through the open door and approached Théodred.

Théodred looked unusually disturbed; Sirius optimistically took this as a good sign.

The prince closed the door to his room, and Sirius transformed.

"You look very well," Théodred said, still sounding less cheerful than usual.

"I still can't take too many steps around the room without falling over…but I guess I do feel a lot better."

"Éowyn was very upset about having to leave you."

"Yeah, I guess she won't have very much company on the trip, if you and Éomer didn't go."

"We were unable to…there are…different matters…" Théodred hesitated. "Matters of war," he said quietly.

"War?" Sirius repeated, surprised. "War with who?"

"The attacks on our villages by orc bands has increased…and they are beginning to look more strategic than random. Éomer believes that they are under the direction of Saruman."

"I wouldn't be surprised."

"That is because you are a foreigner. Saruman is very old; he has maintained a positive relationship with us for centuries. For him to suddenly turn against us is…well, it is quite a surprise, to put it lightly."

"But Éomer's pushing for war."

"He believes the attacks will continue unless we attack the force behind them…and he may be right. But I cannot condone any action against Saruman."

"Why not? I personally don't care much for Éomer, but it sounds like he's got the right idea."

"Éomer is too headstrong. Saruman has requested that I meet with him, and Éomer wants me to assemble an army to accompany me to Isengard…but I…" Théodred paused, and his eyes fell to the ground. "My father," he said quietly. "I tried to speak to my father, but he is too ill to understand, and…and I would not wish to make the decision to go to war without him."

Sirius hesitated, then finally brought himself to ask, "Are you sure that…I mean…I mean you must realize that if your father…if he doesn't…get better soon, then…you're going to have to make decisions like that, all the time."

Théodred nodded. "I know my responsibilities. And I know that if my father…if my father remains ill for much longer, things will become very difficult, because Éomer is at conflict with me on many issues, and he is a strong voice here. And yet…" Théodred stopped. "I…wish to speak no more of this. Is there something more pleasant we could discuss? Perhaps you could tell me of Éowyn, and what she has been speaking to you about for these many long nights."

Sirius weighed his options. Théodred was upset about other things right now; should he really give the prince even more to worry about?

_Of course I should. What better time is there?_

"Actually, Théodred," Sirius said, "Éowyn is…um…the things we talk about…well…we talk a lot about you."

"About me?" Théodred said, and a broad smile formed on his face. "What does she say of me?"

Sirius forced himself to continue. "Well, she…she actually…sort of confessed something to me."

"Oh?"

"I promised not to tell."

Now Théodred looked conflicted. "Then…then perhaps you should not…"

"No, I really have to tell you…for her own good."

"What is it?"

"She's…well…in love with you."

There was a pause.

"Are you certain?" Théodred asked, his feelings difficult to discern by his expression.

"Yeah…she told me she didn't want to tell you because she thought…because she knew how wrong it really was, the two of you growing up like siblings and everything…and she knew how everyone else would disapprove…and how you didn't really feel for her in that way."

Théodred's expression was still unreadable; Sirius waited anxiously for his reaction.

"Why…did you find it necessary to tell me this?" he asked slowly.

"Well, she…she's sort of become obsessed with you, I think. And even though she claims she knows you don't…well…love her, like that…I think she's still entertaining the idea. So…I thought if you…well…maybe if you spoke to her about it, you know, just sort of…assured her that you really don't love her…then maybe she could start thinking about some other options."

"Other options?"

"Well…you know, she's something of a princess and everything, and she's supposed to get married someday, but she seems to think that if there's some wild chance you love her then she shouldn't marry anyone."

"I see."

"Then…you'll talk to her?"

"I…" Théodred stopped, and there was a long pause.

"I could talk to her for you," Sirius offered. "I mean, if you told me what to say, and…were willing to face her afterward…"

"No, no," Théodred said quickly, "I…I should speak to her."

"I think you should do it as soon as she gets back."

"Yes…yes, I suppose…" Théodred still looked deeply disturbed.

"Is there…is there anything else I can do for you?" Sirius asked, trying to sound as friendly and not intrusive as possible.

"Well, I…" Théodred hesitated again. "I really cannot understand why you had to tell me this."

"You don't agree that it was for her own good?"

"No, I understand why you told me, but I do not understand…why you needed to tell me…why I could not see it for myself…" Théodred paused, then said quietly, "I suppose I was blinded by my own feelings."

"Your…own feelings?" Sirius repeated.

"Yes, I…I suppose I have a confession for you as well…I have been in love with Éowyn for several years now."

Sirius was so stunned by these words he did not hear the clunking sound coming from just outside the door.

"I had no idea the feelings were mutual," Théodred continued. "The thought never even crossed my mind…"

"But you…you see why it can never happen," Sirius said quickly. "The two of you…you could never…"

"It would not be acceptable," Théodred agreed.

There was a pause.

"Then again," Théodred started, while Sirius' eyes widened with dread, "for Éowyn to have a man who can transform into a dog sleeping in her room every night…that would not be acceptable either, would it?" Théodred smiled suddenly. "You have eluded everyone in this palace so easily."

"Not that easily," Sirius said quickly. "If I didn't have you, none of this would have worked…and…can you really think of anyone you can trust with the knowledge that you love your cousin? If word got out…think about what Éomer would say!"

Théodred's smile faded. "Éomer…yes…he would be a problem…" But the smile returned. "Still, weighing the possible negative outcomes against the positive…I believe it may be worth the risk."

"But it…if anyone found out…"

"It may stir some problems, but it would not be unprecedented," Théodred said, becoming excited. "In ancient times it was considered uncouth _not_ to marry a close relative…"

"Marry?" Sirius spluttered, finding all of this very difficult to accept.

"Do you…oppose?" Théodred said, seemingly suddenly aware of Sirius' protests.

"Well…yes, of course I…Théodred…I'm trying to think of Éowyn's best interests here."

"Is keeping you in her best interests?"

"Well…"

"How is this any different?"

As Théodred stared at him with an almost hostile look, Sirius tried to quickly think of a solution. At the moment he could think of no argument sure to win over the prince, and his original plan had completely failed. He would need more time.

"I…" Sirius forced a smile. "I was just trying to…you know…make sure you didn't rush into things or anything."

"So you…so you agree with me?"

"I…I think it's great that you and Éowyn…I mean…I think you might…er…make a great couple."

Théodred smiled. "Your help has been invaluable, Sirius. If you had not told me…" he shook his head. "Thank you. I see why Éowyn holds you in such high esteem."

"I only did what I thought was right."

Théodred, still smiling, became lost in thought; Sirius promptly turned into a dog and exited the room. As he strolled down a dark hallway, he heard a voice say, "Here, doggy."

Sirius turned slightly; Wormtongue was behind him. Sirius continued walking, pretending not to notice Wormtongue's presence, but Wormtongue quickened his pace and stopped in front of the dog.

"Sirius," he said with a wicked grin, and he suddenly produced a dagger from somewhere inside his robes. "What a fool I was…Wormtail can transform into rat. I should have assumed that Éowyn's special pet was much more than that."

Sirius stared up at him, trying his hardest to keep a blank, doglike expression.

"Follow me," Wormtongue said, and he began walking. When Sirius did not follow, he turned around and said dangerously, "I know you can hear me. And if you do not do what I say, I _will_ kill you. I could easily make it look like an accident…no one would take much care to investigate the death of a dog."

Sirius bared his teeth, but followed. Nothing seemed to be going according to plan.

Wormtongue led him into an unoccupied food storage room. "Transform," he commanded, holding out the dagger.

Sirius did so. He thought about fighting off Wormtongue, but it would probably do him no good. If he managed to get out of the storage room he had nowhere to run; the palace guards would easily catch him, and without Éowyn around Sirius doubted there would be anyone clever enough to help him get out of the mess.

At any rate, it seemed Wormtongue didn't want to kill him. That would have been much more easily done if he were a dog.

"What do you want?" Sirius, now human, growled.

"Ah yes, I recognize you now," Wormtongue said, smiling evilly. "Tell me…whatever happened to those two others? What of the charming young lady I had captured along with you?"

"Get to the point," Sirius hissed, resisting the urge to attack him.

"I overheard your little conversation with the prince," Wormtongue said, looking delighted with himself. "I had previously been spying on the discourse between Théodred and Éomer, but…yours was invariably much more interesting."

"And now you're planning to reveal my secret?"

"Oh no…I intend to…make a deal, of sorts."

"You're going to blackmail me."

"I…am not familiar with that term, but…I believe you will understand what I mean when I explain it to you."

"What is it you want me to do for you, in order to pay for your silence?"

Wormtongue smiled again. "You do understand. Although it is not so terrible as you may think. I believe we share a common interest, you and I."

"And what's that?"

"Neither of us want romantic ties between Théodred and Éowyn."

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "Leave Éowyn out of this."

"As you have already entangled her in the complications of your presence here, that would be impossible."

"Then get to the bloody point."

"Éomer wants Théodred to accept an invitation sent out by Saruman, but Théodred is reluctant. I want you to convince Théodred to go along with Éomer's plan."

"And what will that do?"

"Théodred will be gone before Éowyn returns. While she is here, and he is away, you may pursue whatever plot you wish…without having to tell her what Théodred feels for her. I will assist you in convincing her to abandon her fantasies about Théodred, if you like…and by the time the prince returns, Éowyn could be yours."

Sirius actually rather liked the idea, but he wasn't about to let Wormtongue know it. "That's ridiculous. How do I know you'll help me?"

"You don't really have a choice, do you? I can reveal your secret."

"And…and what exactly is your aim in all of this? Why do you want Théodred to do what Éomer says?"

"Because otherwise Saruman will be very unhappy."

An unsettling feeling rose in Sirius. "Éomer wanted Théodred to go to Isengard with an army, ready to attack. Why would that make Saruman happy?"

"Only Saruman can answer that."

Sirius' eyes widened. "No," he said suddenly.

"What?"

"You're going to kill him, aren't you?"

"Of course not."

"I don't believe you! You're going to kill Théodred…that's why you want him to go armed, with soldiers…"

"Saruman has no interest in killing the Prince of Rohan. That would give him an incredibly bad reputation, and he has gone to great lengths to conceal his involvement in the attacks on the Westfold."

"But…but he…"

"Saruman has requested Théodred's presence to secure peaceful relations. If he wanted an all-out war he could begin one, immediately, by having his orc troops directly attack Edoras. It would take Rohan completely by surprise, unlike attacking an armed peace delegation."

"Then why does Théodred need to come with a whole army? I still don't understand…"

"There are some stray orc bands and gangs of wild men who would attack a vulnerable delegation on its way to Isengard. With a host of men at his command, Théodred would be well-protected. So you see…Saruman does not want him dead. His safe return is key."

Sirius shook his head. "I won't help an evil dark wizard achieve his plans just to prevent some silly romance. I'm not that unprincipled."

"It would not be just for that. If Théodred decides to travel to Edoras with only a small complement, he could be attacked, as previously mentioned…and if he does not go at all, events could easily lead to war with Rohan." Wormtongue paused and added thoughtfully, "And based upon my question earlier, it would seem that I know a much greater deal about the situation of your friends than you do…that lovely young woman, and the man who was interrogated by Éomer."

"What do you know?!" Sirius shouted immediately.

"I know that they are not dead, and much more besides," Wormtongue said with a smile.

"You…you're lying…how could you possibly know…"

"How could I not? You last saw them very close to Isengard, where I travel occasionally and make contact with its master, who sees things far beyond his own realm. Saruman knows where your friends are."

Sirius was torn. Wormtongue was obviously evil, but what he said made sense; whatever evil plan was being served here didn't sound much worse than the normal course of events. And if there was even a chance that Tonks and Lupin were alive, and Wormtongue knew about it…

"Okay," Sirius said quietly. "I'll try my best to convince Théodred to agree with Éomer's plan."

"Excellent," Wormtongue said.

"But you have to swear," Sirius said quickly, "that Théodred won't be killed."

"I swear it."

There was a pause.

"All right then," Sirius said, and he turned into a dog and left.

------------------------------

Draco Malfoy heard shouting.

He lingered by the door to Voldemort's study, straining to hear what was being said, but all he could determine was that his father was fuming about something, and Voldemort was less energetically disputing it.

When Lucius eventually did come out, he did not walk past Draco. He did not ignore his son as he had been doing for weeks. He faced him, and said quietly, "We need to talk."

Draco frowned slightly and followed his father to his room. Draco had not had access to a clear mirror for a very long time, and seeing his father's gaunt, dirty, unshaven face, with its sunken eyes and mats of hair stuck to the sides, he could only imagine how horrible he himself must look.

Of course, Draco figured he couldn't possibly look as bad as his father. Lucius had taken to heavy drinking and wandering aimlessly outside the tower, where the Mouth of Sauron (whom Draco had spoken to on a few occasions) claimed there was really nothing of interest. Draco hadn't questioned his father about his behavior; he hadn't spoken to him at all for so long, he had just assumed that some day, when this was all over, things would get better and they could start talking again.

But now Lucius was pulling Draco aside, and things were far from over and farthest from better.

"Sit," Lucius said. Draco momentarily thought about protesting that he'd rather stand, making a show of his independence and opposition to his father's orders, but then Draco realized that he really would rather sit, and so he did so.

Lucius sat across from him.

"My son," Lucius said, looking at him in a very focused manner, "we must get out of here."

There was a pause.

"You mean…leave the tower?" Draco asked, wondering where this wild idea had come from.

"Yes," Lucius said, nodding vigorously.

"But…why?"

"Why?!" Lucius repeated, as though it were the most ridiculous question in the world. "Because this place is evil, Draco! There's dark magic everywhere, and we need to get out!"

"Father," Draco said slowly, "you…you're a Death Eater. You've always been around dark magic."

"Not of this sort. We have to get out of here, right now, before it consumes us! Don't you understand? There will come a point where we will no longer be able to leave. That point is approaching. We must get out before we are irrevocably drawn into its hold!"

"Is that what you were arguing with the Dark Lord about?"

"Yes."

"And did he say we could leave?"

Lucius swallowed. "He…he said I could leave, but you must stay."

"Why?"

"He said…he had things to teach you. That you were not yet fully a Death Eater. I told him that I would teach you, but he said that he wanted to teach you himself. And then he said that you would not want to leave…that you wanted to be here."

Draco blinked in surprise. Being back at home, being at Hogwarts, compared to this place? How could Voldemort think Draco wanted to stay?

"I asked him if he would try to stop me, if I left," Lucius continued. "He said that he would not stop me unless I brought you with me."

"Then…then why do you want me to come with you, if it's so dangerous?"

"Because you are my son, and I would risk anything for your safety."

It could have been a touching moment, but rather than soften up after this comment, Draco became angry. "Is that so?" he said. "You brought me to this place, or don't you remember? You dropped me in front of the Dark Lord and told me to be a good Death Eater. I told you I wanted to go home, and you said I had to do my duty, that that was more important!"

"I was wrong. I had no idea…I have served the Dark Lord for many years, and I have never felt so…powerless…as I have in this place. I feel as though my spirit and reason are being broken down and…" Lucius paused, unable to express his thoughts.

"You should never have brought me here."

"I know. And I will make up for that…I'll take you home. Right now. We can leave…we have nothing to bring with us…" Lucius paused. "Except the girl."

"The…what? You mean Ginny?"

Lucius nodded, and said quietly, "We can take her with us. I know you like her."

"You don't know anything," Draco said angrily.

"You are just as much a prisoner here as she is, you know. You do not have the freedom to leave this place."

"If I asked the Dark Lord, he would let me leave."

"I already told you…"

"I know what you told me," Draco said viciously, standing up. "And I know exactly what you're doing. You're not trying to help me or protect me. Ever since we got here you've been jealous of me, because the Dark Lord likes me more than he likes you! And now you've set up this convenient little escape plan, because you think you can prove to the Dark Lord that I want to run away with the Weasley girl, like I'm some kind of selfish coward! Well I'm not! I'm not leaving!"

"Draco," Lucius said desperately, "you must trust that I want to help you…"

"You're mad!" Draco shouted. "Even if you believe what you're saying, you're so insane I couldn't possibly _trust_ you!"

Lucius stared at Draco as he ran out of the room. Draco stood in the dark hallway, clenching his fists. If he were at Hogwarts right now, he'd get Crabbe and Goyle together and seek out Harry Potter to vent some of his anger. But here there was nobody to vent it on.

Then again…

Draco walked up to the door to Ginny's room. As he reached to open it he suddenly stopped, blinking.

_What am I doing?_

Draco, feeling a little dazed, walked away from Ginny's room and wandered farther down the hallway.

"Malfoy."

Draco turned; Voldemort was beckoning to him.

Draco silently followed Voldemort to his study.

"Sit," Voldemort said.

Again Draco considered rebelling against the order, making a speech about his hatred of this place and unwillingness to follow orders, but again he was overruled by fatigue and sat. Voldemort took his seat at his table.

"Your father just spoke to you?" Voldemort asked; he had a book out on the table and began writing on some parchment while speaking to Draco. Draco found this rather odd, but didn't comment on it.

"Yes, he did."

"Would you like to talk about it?"

This was a strange question. "No," Draco said.

Voldemort looked up. "I…see."

"Why did you call me in here?"

"I thought you might have questions for me."

There was more meaning in this statement than Voldemort was letting on.

"A long time ago," Draco said slowly, "you told me that…you liked it that I was straightforward with you. But you said I should be careful not to overstep my bounds."

"Yes."

"What exactly are my bounds?"

Voldemort smiled. "An excellent question…and one that I cannot immediately provide an answer to."

"Is it safe for me to ask you any questions I want, though?"

"I…would say yes."

"Okay then…so…" Draco thought for a moment. There were plenty of questions that had been pressing his mind ever since his arrival in Middle-earth, but he had held them back. After the enraging episode with his father earlier, Draco, although calmer, felt reluctant to hold them back any longer.

He decided to start with the simplest one: "Why are we here?"

"Why do you think?" Voldemort answered cryptically.

Draco didn't like that answer, but tried not to look too frustrated. "Well…I…can't think of anything, really. Anything that makes sense. It seems like…we've gained nothing from being here."

"It seems that way, but that is not true."

"Then maybe you could make things a bit more clear for me."

There was a pause.

"Have you ever read _The_ _Tales of Beedle the Bard_?" Voldemort asked.

"I…have," Draco said, wondering where this was going. "I mean…my mum used to read them to me, when I was little."

"Have you heard the story of the Deathly Hallows?"

"That…that's the one with the three brothers, right?"

"Correct."

There was a long pause.

"Muggles are so inferior to us in nearly every way, and yet if they knew about us they would laugh at us," Voldemort said suddenly.

Draco didn't know what this statement had to do with _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ or Middle-earth, but he decided to let Voldemort continue without voicing his confusion.

"Look at Muggle history," Voldemort said. "They began with the most primitive instruments, and have advanced over time, building on what they previously had…improving it. Muggle medicine from two hundred years ago is nothing comparable to the way it is today. Their computers, their automobiles, their technological devices…" Voldemort paused. "They began weak creatures of the dirt, and look how far they have come."

Draco's eyes widened. In his mind, and probably the minds of every witch and wizard from his world, Voldemort would be the last person to praise the accomplishments of Muggles.

"Look at us," Voldemort said bitterly. "We were at once so superior, so advanced…we laughed at their vain attempts to transcend their meager lot in life, and yet where are we? Where have we come in these centuries, these millennia? We look at _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_, and the story of the Deathly Hallows, and we marvel at those ancient artifacts. We have no idea how they were created. Nicholas Flamel and the Sorcerer's Stone…no one has been able to replicate his work, not in centuries. Our history is rife with tales of searches for lost artifacts, of question marks concerning the power of a weapon like the Sword of Gryffindor, or the possibility of the existence of the Chamber of Secrets. How can we not know these things?! Would a Muggle scientist look back on an achievement of centuries past, and not be able to replicate it?!"

Voldemort unexpectedly slammed his fist on the table. Draco stared in awe at the Dark Lord, who seemed to be making perfect sense.

"We have not only stagnated, we have withered," Voldemort said, a green fire in his eyes. "If Salazar Slytherin were to return to Hogwarts now, he could probably take up teaching, for I doubt the curriculum has changed much since his day!"

There was a pause.

"The ancients," Voldemort said, with more control, "those masters of magic, the inventors of wands and the Deathly Hallows, the creators of charms and curses and prized artifacts…they had something that we do not."

Draco stared at him. "What…what is that?"

Voldemort gestured around him.

"Middle-earth?" Draco said confusedly. "But…what does that have to do with anything?"

"The magic in our world is polluted. Can you not sense the immense power in this place? Can you not sense that in this tower is Dark Magic, pure Dark Magic, not bound by the constraints of a wand or a magic word?"

"I…" Draco said anxiously, "I…I don't really understand…are you saying…are you saying that in our world magic used to be more like this, but over time it somehow…got weaker?"

"Yes," Voldemort said, nodding vigorously.

"But…how did that happen?"

"The Muggles." Voldemort was excited now, and Draco had the impression that the Dark Lord was realizing a lot of this as he explained it.

"What did they do?"

"They polluted our blood. They weakened our power."

"But…there's purebloods who can't…you know…make Sorcerer's Stones…"

"They are brought down by those around them…" Voldemort paused. "And there are always weaknesses in the line…imperfections that are glossed over, or lied about and forgotten."

"But…I still don't really get it…"

"Look at how many wizards are in this world. Less than a dozen! And yet there are beings like elves, and even some Men, who possess magical abilities. If the wizards of this world decided to educate all equally, what would happen?"

"Well…they couldn't educate everyone equally, because some are better at magic than others."

"Precisely! In our world, the great wizards of ancient times lowered their standards. _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ describe wizards using magic without wands. There was once a time when no one used wands. Wands were invented to help the weak, those unable to produce spells without extra assistance…it is rather like a Muggle cripple receiving a false leg, giving him the illusion of normality, masking his weakness. But in our case wands became so convenient they were used by everyone…because they made magic _easier_, because it was _fair_ for all to produce the same spells."

"But…if there are some purebloods left…maybe they could do magic without wands. Maybe they could learn to be more like the ancients."

"In our polluted world, such a thing is difficult…" Voldemort's eyes twinkled as he spread his arms wide. "But here…my magical capacity is strengthening. Soon…soon I shall no longer require a wand to perform magic."

"So we're here to become powerful," Draco said. "We're here…so that we can…so that we can unlock our true potential."

Voldemort nodded.

Draco was awed by this. He tried to focus, tried to sense, as Voldemort had, his strengthening power, but all he could feel was a slight tingling that was probably the product of imagination.

Then he thought of his father. His father had sensed it. He had described the dark magic as being pure. But his father was afraid of it. He couldn't handle it.

The only part of it all that didn't make sense was the bloodline theory. Most Death Eaters forced themselves to overlook Voldemort's Halfblood status, but Draco couldn't. If Voldemort was right, and purebloods should be the only ones who could unlock their potential, then Voldemort shouldn't be able to, because he was polluted by Muggle blood.

Draco didn't think it had anything to do with blood purity. He decided that it must be about the strength of the individual; specifically, he and Voldemort were strong enough to handle the power of the magic in Middle-earth, and his father wasn't. That was why Lucius was losing his mind. He wasn't strong enough.

"Have I satisfied your questions for the time being?" Voldemort asked.

"Yes."

"Then I must return to my studies…" Voldemort paused. "I am glad we had this discussion, Draco…and I am pleased to see that you…seem to understand me."

"I do understand," Draco said quickly. "I…thank you, for…for explaining it all to me."

Voldemort went back to his book, and Draco left. As he walked along the dark hallway, he marveled at the thought of performing magic without a wand, without uttering incantations…each day that Draco stayed here, he could be becoming more powerful.

Suddenly the place didn't seem so bad.

And then Draco thought of Ginny. Soon Voldemort wouldn't have to use a wand on her…soon his torture would no longer have to be confined to a handful of existing spells.

_The magic of this place…pure Dark Magic…_

Draco stopped walking. He leaned against a wall and stared at the ground.

His father had offered him a chance to escape with Ginny. Even if it had been a lie, the thought of fleeing with her, of carrying her in his arms as he ran past orcs and all manner of evil creatures, the thought of leaving the darkness of Mordor behind him…

The magic of Barad-Dur that Voldemort so desired, and that Lucius so feared, just might not be the kind of magic that Draco was looking for.

He didn't need his father's help to run away. Both his father and Voldemort clearly believed that Draco didn't want to leave; both even especially so after his argument with his father and Voldemort's convincing revelations about magic.

Now would be the perfect time to escape.

But bringing Ginny with him would be tricky. He could easily escape on his own; his father took long walks outside the tower, so getting out would be easy. And even if he were caught, Voldemort would want to ensure his safe return, so the worst that could happen would be a stern lecture.

If he brought Ginny with him, not only would that make it more difficult to escape the tower, it would be difficult to travel considering her poor physical condition, difficult to get past suspicious orcs, difficult to carry supplies for both of them…and Voldemort might not be so lenient with him if he escaped with Ginny.

If he left alone, he could find Dumbledore. He could help Dumbledore get to Ginny, to rescue her, and with the all-powerful Headmaster on his side it would be much easier to get Ginny out of the tower.

But while he would be gone, Ginny would be exposed to more weeks without food, without his company, without anything to look forward to except her long hours alone.

If he left her now, and returned later with help, she would be even more grateful to him, because certainly after his departure she would have lost all hope. He would renew her hope, and she would cry with joy, and smile at him, and thank him for coming back and rescuing her when all hope seemed lost, for returning to her after she had been suffering alone for so long…

He couldn't do that to her.

It wasn't about the feeling of power whenever he betrayed Voldemort's wishes and did something for her. It was about her.

Draco went over to Ginny's room and opened the door.

He was surprised to find her standing.

"I…I thought you were him," she said, blinking.

"Oh," Draco said, standing a little ways away from her. It was so different, seeing her standing up like that. She was almost as tall as him. He was so used to looking down at her.

"I…I like to stand whenever he comes," she explained, noticing his confusion. "I…I want to show him I'm not weak…that if he wants me on the ground he has to force me there."

"Earlier he ordered me to sit down, and…I did it," Draco said quietly. "I thought about defying him, but…I sat, because…because it was more convenient for me…and here you are, standing…when I know it must be hard for you to."

"It's not that important…not like…not like lying to his face, and stealing food and bringing it to me."

"It doesn't take courage to play both sides. That…takes a coward."

There was a pause.

"I love you," Draco blurted.

"What?" Ginny said immediately.

"I-I…was thinking about…leaving. Just the two of us. You know…escaping."

Ginny stared blankly at him.

"I kept lying to myself about you," Draco said, walking slowly over to her. "Lying to myself about…everything, really. I've had so many people telling me what I want…all my life I've been told what I want. But now I see it. It's all clear to me…what I want is _you_."

Ginny looked confused, almost frightened. "You…you can't be serious, you…mustn't be…you must be tired, or…"

"Didn't you hear what I just said?" Draco asked, still approaching her. "It's all clear to me now. I want to escape, but I can't do it without you. I _need_ you…"

Draco stopped in front of her. Ginny stared at him. Draco reached out. He touched her. A shiver went down her body. He kissed her.

Ginny suddenly pulled away from him and started backing away, looking terrified.

Those few seconds were like an eternity for Draco. He had just kissed her, just revealed everything to her, and she was trying to get away from him.

She didn't love him at all.

The rage Draco had felt when he talked to his father, the rage that had been latent, hardly contained, ever since his arrival here, exploded. He grabbed Ginny and pushed her into the wall.

"How can you look at me like that?!" he shouted, right at her face, his fingers clenching over her arms. "How can you treat me like this after everything I've done for you?!"

"Let go of me," Ginny cried, tears streaming down her face.

"What is wrong with you?! Why are you afraid of me?!"

"You're hurting me…"

"You think I'm like my father, don't you? You think I'm mad, don't you?!"

"You are mad…"

"How can you think I'm like him?! I've protected you! I brought you food, I lied to the Dark Lord, and you're treating me like I'm…"

"Let go of me!" Ginny screamed, now struggling to get free.

"Shut up! You don't deserve to talk to me like that! After everything I've done…"

Ginny somehow managed to wrench an arm free. She slapped him as hard as she could. Draco released her other arm, and she stumbled to the corner, as far away from him as she could get.

"Get out of here," she said viciously.

Draco turned and stared at her. The fiery rage was gone, now replaced by cold menace. "I would have freed you from this place. I was willing to risk my life to free you from this place."

"Get out!"

"I loved you."

"You never loved me! You're just like your father! This place is evil, and it's driven you mad! You don't know what you want!"

"No," Draco said quietly. "I did love you. I loved you because of your courage…because you were willing to face the Dark Lord, and defy him, even when you alone were there to do it. And I loved you because of your strength…because you took all that torture, and you made it look like nothing."

Ginny's hostile look faltered, and in her eyes was the slightest bit of doubt.

"But I guess I was wrong," Draco said, some of the anger returning. "I was wrong to assume that because you were brave and strong that also meant you were a good person. I can see now that you're completely selfish…you're so afraid of what I'm capable of doing to you you don't give a moment to consider my feelings." He paused. "It's funny, isn't it? The only person here who's shown me a shred of compassion is the Dark Lord."

"Then go back to him," Ginny said viciously, the doubt gone. "Tell him how much you love him. You'll get a lot more from him than you did from me, I bet. He'll give you a nice pat on the head, and tell you how good a Death Eater you are, and you can hear all the praise you want, because he's the only person who will ever give it to you…because you're evil, and you won't be getting any praise from me."

"I hope you're happy now. I hope that when you're sitting all alone, after he's tortured you, you're satisfied with the thought that I won't be coming to comfort you. And I hope that when you're starving, when you feel like you could eat the dirt on the ground, you're glad that I'm not there to bring you food. I hope you're proud of your decision, that even though you suffer you can suffer righteously with the knowledge that you turned down someone who wanted to help you because he wasn't good enough for you."

Draco turned and left. As he walked out the door, he heard Ginny sob, "Never come

back!"

_I won't._

-------------------------------


	37. Chapter 37: Complications

Chapter 37

Complications

"That's what I saw."

There was a brief moment of silence. Ron bowed his head, and the firelight cast a complete shadow over his face.

"That can't be," Hermione said suddenly.

Harry looked up at her, surprised at her comment. Ron also lifted his head. "I know what I saw," he said firmly.

"Malfoy would never do that."

"Have you forgotten what he was like at Hogwarts?"

"No, I haven't. I think you have. Ron, Malfoy was a bully, he picked on people, he never…"

"Are you calling me a liar?"

"No! I'm just saying that…" Hermione hesitated. "He's not _evil_."

"He could've become more evil," Harry said quietly. "He's a Death Eater now."

"But he's our age!"

"So?!" Ron said angrily.

"Ron's right," Harry said, before Hermione could protest. "After being around Voldemort so long, I'd be surprised if Malfoy hadn't completely lost it."

"So you're saying you want it to be true," Hermione said bitterly. "You're not willing to even consider that that ridiculous woman made the whole thing up just to make Ron angry?"

"Why would she do that?"

"I don't know. But she lied to me."

"What did she say to you?"

"She said I was a spoiled little child."

There was a pause. Harry was afraid Ron might make a mean comment, but he seemed to be paying little attention now, his thoughts still focused on Ginny.

"She said I had to kill Voldemort," Harry said slowly.

"See?" Hermione said. "Completely ridiculous. Dumbledore can kill Voldemort."

"But she…"

"She's serving entirely her own interests. She doesn't want to see the Ring fall into enemy hands, so she pulled us all aside and tried to galvanize us into putting just that much more effort into getting to Mordor as fast as possible and killing everyone we find. She thinks that if she can make us angry enough, we might do a better job."

"I…don't know if that's true," Harry said uncertainly.

"Ginny is fine," Hermione said, turning to Ron. "Voldemort has to keep her alive and well to ensure that we come after her. He probably doesn't let anyone, including Malfoy, get anywhere near her! Galadriel made the whole thing up so you would get angry and run off to Mordor to kill Malfoy."

"Then she's succeeded," Ron said darkly.

There was a pause.

"You…you're not thinking of going off on your own, are you?" Hermione asked, stunned.

"Not on my own. But we don't need to bring the whole Fellowship to Mordor. I think they're slowing us down."

"You want to break up the Fellowship?" Harry asked, frowning.

"Yeah!" Ron said, half angry, half excited. "We don't need Neville, or Merry, or Pippin, or Gimli, or Legolas, or…"

"Legolas has saved all our lives plenty of times!" Hermione protested. "Without him…"

"Fine, we can bring him along," Ron said unexpectedly; Harry was certain he would argue. "But those others…what good are they going to do, honestly?"

"They've done a lot of good so far," Harry said, with Hermione nodding her approval.

"When we're charging that Sauron guy's tower, and there's orcs everywhere and Voldemort and Malfoy and all that, do we really want to be worried about protecting Neville?" Ron said. "He'll slow us down! All the hobbits would! In fact, we don't even need Frodo! One of us could take the Ring!"

"Ron!" Hermione gasped.

"I'd take it!" Ron shouted, and Hermione glanced around nervously; the running water next to them would probably mask his voice, but there was a possibility someone might overhear.

"You can't do that," Harry said. "You're not thinking…"

"I _am_ thinking! I'm thinking that these little 'second breakfast' breaks and always slowing down so the slow people like Neville can catch up, I'm thinking that's making things a whole lot worse! I'm thinking that if it took Voldemort a few days to get to Mordor, why the hell are we still here?!"

"Ron, please!" Hermione whispered.

"You don't understand," Ron said angrily. "I'm going to talk to Boromir. I bet he'd agree with me."

He turned and left.

"I feel like I don't even know him anymore," Hermione whispered.

"He's just…angry. And he should be. It's his sister…this quest means more to him than it does to any of us."

"But the things he said…taking the Ring, leaving Neville behind…how can he say that? Neville and the hobbits aren't slowing us down. I have just as much trouble keeping up with Aragorn as anyone."

"He's looking for someone to blame."

"I know, but he can't just keep going on like this…becoming angrier and angrier. With his negative attitude…" Hermione paused. "And I'm sure Boromir's not a good influence on him. He's been looking sour ever since he left Lothlórien."

"Then Ron needs a better influence."

There was a pause. Harry looked expectantly at Hermione.

"I can't," she said quietly.

"You said you…you know…loved him."

"I'm Ron's friend already, if he doesn't listen to me now…"

"If you told him everything would change."

"Why?"

"It might give him a little hope…something to be happy about for once."

Hermione's eyes filled with tears. "I'm not in love with him."

"It's Legolas, isn't it? You said you were just playing around to annoy Ron. You were lying."

"I wasn't lying! It was true when I said it, but…that was a long time ago."

"I'm going to bed," Harry said, standing up.

"Harry, please don't be mad at me!"

"Good night."

Harry walked off. Hermione stared into the fire, tears rolling down her cheeks. She wasn't certain how long she was sitting there before someone sat down beside her.

"Are you all right?" Legolas asked concernedly.

Hermione cleared her throat and wiped the tears from her face. "Yes, I…was just thinking about Ron."

"Ron? Is he troubled by something?"

"Galadriel showed him a vision of his sister."

Legolas' eyes widened. "She is still alive?"

"Yes, but…she's…not well."

"This Fellowship is strong…mightier, perhaps, than even your Lord Voldemort. His sister could not hope for anyone better to carry out her rescue."

Hermione smiled weakly. "I guess so…I just wish Ron were as optimistic. He seems to think we'll fail if we go on as we are."

"Worry and doubt cannot aid this quest, only harm it. We must keep our eyes forward, and strive only to do what we know we can, not what we wish we could."

Hermione nodded. "You're right…you're so right."

Legolas smiled and touched her face. "_Do not lose hope, Hermione,_" he said in Sindarin.

"I won't," Hermione said, struggling but unable to think of the Elvish words to express her thoughts. "I won't ever…not as long as you're here. I feel like…like you're the only one who makes sense in this crazy place."

"At times I feel the very same about you."

There was a pause. "I love you," Hermione said suddenly.

"Hermione…"

"How do you say it? In Elvish, how do you say it?"

Legolas blinked. "I…I…"

"Tell me."

"Amin mela lle."

"Amin mela lle," Hermione repeated, and then she kissed him.

* * *

Éowyn dismounted and began unloading her supplies when two servants hurriedly rushed forward and insisted that they do it instead. Éowyn did not complain; she was weary from the long ride, and eager to return to the palace and sleep again upon a soft bed. But first, she would visit Théodred, and then talk to Sirius.

As she walked up the steps to the palace, Éowyn was greeted less cheerfully than she had expected by the palace guards. At the doors a particular friend, Háma, was pacing anxiously.

"Greetings, my Lady," he said distractedly.

"What troubles you?"

"Oh…oh, 'tis nothing, Lady."

"Nothing?"

Háma hesitated. "Your brother, Lady…he has been…causing some trouble."

"Éomer? Causing trouble? What are you talking about?"

"Ever since Prince Théodred left…"

"Théodred left?! What are you talking about?"

"The prince left at dawn this very day, Lady, with a host of men, bound for Isengard."

"You mean…you do not mean to go to war?"

"Gríma called it a peace delegation, but if that be so 'twere the most armed peace delegation I ever saw. Éomer wished for the prince to go in such a way, so that he could be prepared, but then the very hour after Prince Théodred departed a scout from the north reported that a horde of orcs was gathering near the River Isen, where the prince was bid to go."

"Then why did Éomer not go after him?!"

"Éomer would have, Lady, believe me, were it not for the king."

"The king? The king is ill."

"Aye, that is so, but just after the prince left King Théodred sat again upon his throne, as he had not done for many weeks, and ordered that Éomer allow Théodred to go to Isengard without hindrance."

"But…but he would never put his son in that sort of…"

Háma leaned closer to Éowyn and whispered, "That rotten Wormtongue sat beside his throne and whispered to him things no one but he could hear. And the king looks very ill, as though he has aged a hundred years. I believe the king has lost his senses, and Gríma means to put thoughts into his mind."

"Where is Éomer?"

"Gone, my Lady. He rode out this afternoon in a fury. But Gamling says he will return before nightfall; he dares not betray the orders of the king."

"I must see the king."

"I hope things are not so foul as I have told them."

Éowyn entered the palace and stared down the long hall at the throne upon which was now seated her uncle. As she walked toward him, Éowyn could see what Háma had described; Théoden looked very old, almost lifeless. Wormtongue sat beside him.

"My Lord," she said, kneeling before the throne and trying to maintain her calm at seeing him in such a state, "I am pleased to hear that you are well again."

Théoden whispered something in a slow, wheezing voice; Éowyn, kneeling right before him, couldn't understand it, but Wormtongue spoke. "The king is glad to see you have returned to the palace again."

Éowyn was certain Théoden hadn't said that, but she couldn't argue. "I…heard that Théodred has left for Isengard," she commented as casually as possible.

Again, Théoden whispered something, and again Wormtongue translated. "He has gone to Isengard to seek counsel from Saruman."

"Seek counsel?" Éowyn repeated.

"Rohan requires aid against the orc attacks," Wormtongue said, not even waiting for Théoden to answer.

"I…see," Éowyn said quietly. "I…I wish you well, Lord." She bowed her head to Théoden, then stood and walked to her bedroom, slowly at first, then more quickly once she thought Wormtongue could no longer see her.

When she opened the door she was greeted by a delighted yelp from Sirius, and seeing him looking so clearly overjoyed, even as a dog, almost made Éowyn forget her distress at the current situation. When Sirius transformed and stood beaming at her, however, he could see the distracted look in her eyes.

"You're back," he said, looking concerned.

"Yes, I…" Éowyn paused. "I found out about Théodred, and…and the king."

"Oh," Sirius said quietly.

There was a pause.

"Well," Sirius said slowly, "if Théodred does return, and…and he's made peace…then that would be a good thing, right?"

"There is no 'peace' with an army of orcs," Éowyn said bitterly. "What do you think they do when they are not fighting? They are always fighting, always preparing for battle. If Saruman is a fool enough to attempt peace at this point, then his orc army will betray him and attack Rohan under its own leadership."

Sirius swallowed, trying not to look guilty. He had hoped Éowyn would be so happy to be back. Winning her over would be more difficult than he thought.

But he had to do it. Théodred was gone. Sirius didn't know for how much longer. This was his big chance.

"I, um…" Sirius paused. "I missed you."

Éowyn's distracted look of concern became a smile. "I am sure you did…you must have been quite lonely while I was gone, especially since Théodred has left the palace. You have no one else to talk to."

"Yeah, but…even if he had been here…I mean…no one can quite…make me happy, the way you do."

"What a lovely thing to say," Éowyn said, beaming. "And the reverse is true as well…no one can make me happy like you, and Théodred."

Sirius might have given up his very soul cut the "and Théodred" off the end of that sentence. His jealousy for the handsome young prince began to stir up again, and he tried to hide his anger by saying something else nice, when Éowyn yawned.

"I am quite tired," Éowyn said. "Such a long ride…I am afraid we will have to speak again tomorrow morning."

"All right, that's…that's perfectly understandable, I mean…you need your rest…"

Éowyn smiled again, then Sirius turned back into a dog and curled up, closing his eyes while Éowyn undressed and got into bed.

After a few minutes, when Sirius was sure she must be asleep, he turned back into a human and curled his fist. He didn't know how he would ever get Éowyn to stop liking Théodred. And even if he could…

Sirius had always been so likable. He had rarely been in a position where revealing his feelings for a woman might get him completely rejected, and never in one where he might lose a valuable friendship because of it.

Sirius considered all of the terrible things that might happen if he told her how he felt and she didn't respond favorably.

_It could be awkward…she might stop talking to me…she might casually tell me she wants me to sleep in someone else's room…or she might demand it. She might disown me completely…she might run me out of the palace…or she might just tell me I'm all better, and I don't need her, and give me some food and a horse and wish me good luck…_

_Or she might completely flip, and tell Théodred, and he'd have me run out…or she might tell Éomer, and he'd have me killed…_

Sirius sat up and looked at Éowyn, who was lying on her bed with her back facing him.

"I love you," he said quietly.

Feeling a little bit better about himself, but still not ready to tell her when she was awake, Sirius turned back into a dog and closed his eyes.

Éowyn's eyes were open.

She wasn't asleep, and she had heard what he had said.

Suddenly things had become a lot more complicated.


	38. Chapter 38: Broken

A/N: If there are any weird errors in this chapter (funny spaces, no line breaks for different sections) let me know and I'll fix them. Thanks, and sorry for the long wait!

Chapter 38

Broken

The long days trekking down the river were welcome to the Fellowship, who knew every moment in a boat was one less moment marching on land, yet soon their arms became as weary of rowing as their legs had been of walking.

After the previous night's stop the Fellowship experienced some changes in their boat seating arrangements, in order to provide "greater comfort;" Hermione left the boat that had initially held Harry and Ron and was now seated with Legolas, Gimli, and Pippin. Neville had replaced her.

And so Harry, Ron, Dumbledore, and Neville were all crunched into a boat, and while none were convinced it was any more comfortable, Harry and Ron were not willing to confront Hermione about it. Ron was still sore over his outburst the previous night, and Harry's attempts to speak to Hermione again were rejected. And so the three kept mostly to themselves.

But Harry, Ron, and Hermione's drama was the least of the Fellowship's concerns; Frodo and Sam had spotted a strange creature hiding under a log in the water following the boats, and it was suspected that Gollum had somehow found them after they left Lothlórien. Although not drastically worried, there were mumbled rumors and more than a few glances over the shoulder to try to catch a glimpse of the log.

It was several nights into their journey before Aragorn began to grow doubtful of his knowledge of the river, and the Fellowship paused and sent a scout boat ahead more and more frequently. Despite these efforts, they reached the Sarn Gebir rapids ahead of schedule, and unprepared.

Aragorn attempted to avert the ships from the rapids, but as they were backtracking in the darkness of the night they heard the unmistakable whoosh of arrows. The orcs were on the eastern shore.

Arrows flew past all members of the Fellowship; one struck one of the boats, but not deeply enough to cause any harm, and one even hit its target in the back—Frodo—but his mail shirt deflected it. Legolas and Hermione attempted to fire arrows in the darkness, but they were not rewarded with any enemy groans, and their efforts were soon needed to assist Pippin and Gimli in paddling against the current.

Eventually they managed to backtrack enough, and they thrust their boats toward the western shore and paused.

They were now out of arrow range of the orcs, although their angry cries could be faintly heard over the sound of the rushing river. Legolas and Hermione left their boat to scout out the western shore, and no sooner had they equipped their bows than a shrill cry rang out from above, and a great black cloud that took the form of a terrible winged beast could be seen in the sky.

Legolas notched an arrow, as did Hermione, but fear of the creature itself and of her lack of 

significant experience firing at targets in the darkness prevented her from taking a shot.

Legolas did not fire immediately. The enormous beast croaked loudly, and then Legolas, closing his eyes, cried out, "_Elbereth, Gilthoniel_!"

He opened his eyes and fired.

Hermione stared in awe as the creature screamed and then fell, toppling into the forest on the eastern shore. She looked at Legolas; he almost seemed alight with Elven magic.

"That was incredible," she whispered.

Legolas smiled. "It was not so great as you describe…and certainly not beyond one of your skill."

Hermione swelled with pride and whispered him a thank-you in Elven before returning to the boats, which were preparing to dock in a shallow a little ways down the river.

--

Éowyn had been avoiding him.

Sirius knew this had to be the truth. She kept out of her room most of the time, and when she was in she didn't want to talk. She didn't take him on his walks, and seemed quiet and distant when he did see her.

Sirius now knew Théodred's absence was not the wonderful opportunity he had dreamed of, and figured that her behavior was caused by her worry over him and the king. Sirius was now beginning to actually wish Théodred would return quickly so that Éowyn would be easier to talk to.

_When Théodred comes back, things might get a little better…_

Éowyn was thinking the same thing. She was shocked by what she had heard Sirius say, and had no idea how to deal with it; with Théodred gone there was no one she could ask for advice, and so the only thing she could think to do was to avoid Sirius until Théodred returned. Then she could ask him for help.

But she had to consider the possibility that Théodred would have no idea. Having loved him for so long, Éowyn had kept a casual eye on any romantic encounters her cousin had had over the years, and none were any more serious than hers, just dinners and formal meetings with the daughters of nobles and foreign royalty. Théodred certainly wasn't experienced in these matters, and might offer meaningless advice about Éowyn's problem with Sirius.

Éowyn hoped that at the very least rejecting Sirius might encourage Théodred.

But there was also Sirius' feelings to consider. Even if the situation somehow came out favorably for her and Théodred, it was unlikely Sirius would benefit.

_He is trapped here. His friends are dead. His enemies are close. He needs me to help him…oh, how it must have pained him to hear me talk of Théodred!_

_He should have just told me his feelings…then I could tell him that I do not love him, and desire only his friendship…nothing more…_

Not that that was completely true.

Éowyn was very fond of Sirius. He was intelligent, mysterious, and had a very interesting perspective on things. But he was also very troubled, and had several disturbing aspects to him, leftovers from a dark past. Éowyn did not want to comprehend these aspects.

Sirius made her think, but Théodred made her carefree and happy.

As long as she loved Théodred, she could only imagine, but never consider or pursue, a relationship with Sirius. And that was very firm in her mind.

_When Théodred returns, I will share my feelings for him_, Éowyn resolved. _When Théodred returns, things will get better…_

--

"What's going on?"

"I am awaiting news of the battle."

"Battle?"

"Yes, there was a battle just on our doorstep…small in size but not significant. Preliminary reports indicate the death of Prince Théodred, but it has not been confirmed."

"I see…"

Saruman smiled. "You seem concerned, my friend."

Wormtail smiled back. "Oh no, I'm not concerned."

"Glad to hear it."

Wormtail turned away and picked up a book, pretending to be studying it. His forced smile faded.

It took a great deal of mental discipline to resist the calming, soothing effects of Saruman's 

words, and to deny himself the blissful obliviousness they brought, but Wormtail had vowed never to be a pet rat again, and he was holding to that oath. Over the past couple of weeks it had become more and more apparent to him the ways in which Saruman was manipulating him, and although he wanted to end it, he knew he did not have the ability. Saruman needed a blind servant; if Wormtail became anything more he would be useless to him. If Wormtail showed any sign of defiance or disobedience Saruman could either use greater power to subdue him or kill him.

But Wormtail recognized that this fear of punishment could be just as manipulative as Saruman's magic words, and he knew he could not allow himself to be used any longer. And so he resolved that, at the first viable opportunity, he would run away—leave not only Saruman but Middle-earth itself behind him, returning to his own familiar world and living among Muggles.

Now was not a viable opportunity.

And so Wormtail was forced to wait, forced to smile and nod and do Saruman's bidding, but was constantly dreaming of his escape and freedom.

Just then an orc bearing a standard rushed into Saruman's study room. "My Lord, there is news," the orc said. "The forces have retreated. A host of men under the command of Éomer the king's nephew was spotted approaching the fords."

"And what will they find?" Saruman asked.

"Death, my Lord," the orc said with a disgusting grin. "The prince's party has been slain to the last man."

"So the prince is dead?"

"Yes, Lord."

"Good."

"Are we to send reinforcements to the ford and attack Éomer's men?"

"No! No, do no such thing…allow them to reclaim their bodies and return to their city."

"Yes, Lord."

The orc left.

"All proceeds according to plan," Saruman said with a smile.

"So now that the prince is dead…" Wormtail said slowly.

"Éomer shall be filled with wrath, but also responsibility," Saruman explained. "He is very 

unpopular, and shall be doubly so with Wormtongue's and the king's words against him. He shall advocate attack, and the king shall oppose him."

"Then why not just kill him?"

"Because there are men who would follow him. And men who would not."

"You're dividing Rohan."

"Precisely. Éomer must become a nuisance, not a martyr."

There was a pause, and then Wormtail realized he should say something stupidly servile. "A most brilliant plan, my Lord!"

Saruman beamed. "Why thank you, Wormtail…" he paused. "I actually have something of a job for you."

"You…you do?"

"Yes…I can see that you are rather…anxious."

"Anxious?"

"You wish to help me accomplish my goals…you wish to provide more assistance."

"Of course I do…"

"I have devised a task for you. You will be meeting with a group of Men…they are exiles from Rohan, a tribe from the Black Hills. I wish for their allegiance. You are to convince them to serve us."

"I would be ever so happy to help you…"

"Excellent. I shall assemble a party to accompany you."

Saruman left.

Wormtail smiled.

His opportunity had finally come.

--

"I wonder what day it is."

The others in the boat turned their heads to look at Harry, who was looking up at the sky.

"I wonder," he continued, "what everyone at Hogwarts is doing…it's well past Christmas by now, isn't it? I reckon we've missed all of January, too."

"Indeed," Dumbledore commented. "It is now February…what day, Neville?"

"Eighteenth," Neville said quietly, continuing his rowing.

"February eighteenth?" Ron repeated. "That's impossible! Term hadn't even started before we left…February eighteenth!"

"How do you know what day it is?" Harry asked curiously.

"I've been keeping track," Neville said with a shrug.

"Even after I began to lose count," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Especially after Lothlórien…according to Legolas, in the lands of the elves time seems to move more quickly."

"I wonder when we'll be back," Harry said.

There was a pause.

"I don't think it'll be long now," Neville said, turning to look at the others now. "Mordor isn't far. Ginny can't be more than a couple weeks away, and the return journey will probably be much easier. Maybe only a month or so before we're back home."

"A month," Ron whispered. "It's so easy for us to say it…for us to lose track of time…but for her…"

Dumbledore stopped paddling and put a hand on Ron's shoulder. "Mordor is within reach now," he said reassuringly. "Ginny will be with us again very soon."

Ron bowed his head and said no more, but after a few minutes he looked around at the others in his boat, and then the rest of the Fellowship in their boats.

Strolling along in the land of Mordor, stopping for the hobbits to catch their breath and taking lots of rest stops and food stops, all fourteen of them…

It wasn't that Ron was afraid they would take too long to make it to Ginny. He was afraid they wouldn't make it at all.

After a few hours, they stopped the boats again. A fog had descended upon the river, and Aragorn cautioned them to wait a while until it lifted before setting out again.

Ron sat alone during the break, as far away from Legolas and Hermione as he could. He heard raised voices a little ways into the woods behind him and knew that Aragorn and Boromir were 

arguing yet again about which way the Fellowship would go next.

After arguing with Aragorn, Boromir came and sat next to Ron.

"He is a fool," Boromir said with a scowl.

"You're still trying to get him to go to Minas Tirith instead."

"It is the safer path." Boromir paused. "You wish to rescue your sister quickly, I know, but without Gondor's help…"

"I know, I agree with you. I think we should go to Minas Tirith first. I've always believed that."

"I am glad to hear it."

"I think if we went to Minas Tirith, not only could we get help, but we could leave some of these others behind."

Boromir nodded. "The younger hobbits, certainly, have no need to be here. Nothing but misery and death await them on the road to Mordor."

Ron sighed. "Frodo would never go, though. He'll agree with Aragorn, no matter what, and everyone else will go with him."

"I will not."

Ron looked up. "What?"

"I have made my decision, and I have told Aragorn of it. Too long have I been away from my homeland. I am returning to Minas Tirith, whether the Fellowship wills it or not."

"You're abandoning us?!"

"I am not abandoning you. It is Minas Tirith I have abandoned, and Minas Tirith I must return to. My father and the people of Gondor know nothing of the danger that awaits them. I was sent out to discover if the Ring of Power was found, and I have learned of wizard's treachery and armies of Orcs on the very borders of Rohan! We may continue to shuffle our feet all the way to Mordor, but my people are in need _now_. The first strike will be against Rohan, that is almost certain, but when the weak armies of the horse lords collapse the battle will turn to Minas Tirith. I will not let Gondor fall."

There was a pause.

"And there is another thing," Boromir said quietly.

Ron stared at him. Boromir looked nervously around him before continuing.

"The Ring," he whispered. "I can feel its presence so strongly here. Ever since I left that damned elf forest I have felt it. It is becoming more and more difficult to tolerate."

Ron nodded. "I know what you mean."

"Then why do you continue this way?"

"Wh…what do you mean?"

"The Ring is going to Mt. Doom; you are going to Barad-Dur. At some point you would have to part ways. Why not now?"

"I…I don't…"

"Come with me to Minas Tirith," Boromir said, his eyes sparkling. "Come, and see the glory of Gondor…"

"I…I can't possibly…"

"My services may be needed in the city, but I know one who could go with you to Mordor. He would help you rescue your sister."

"But…but the Fellowship…"

"…Would slow you down! My brother knows Ithilien and all the lands before the Black Gate. He could guide you to Mordor."

"Your brother?"

"Come with me," Boromir said.

Ron hesitated. "I…I'll think about it."

"You must think quickly. We are close to the Argonath now. Soon it will be too late to turn toward Minas Tirith."

"Then I'll think quickly."

Boromir left. Ron sat alone for a while longer, and then Aragorn called for everyone to return to the boats as the fog had now lifted.

Boromir was right; they were very close to the Argonath.

It was not long before the Fellowship saw them—the Pillars of the Kings, tall, grey statues standing sentinel before the great realm of Men. Seeing the great monuments, no one in the 

Fellowship could deny that they had reached a great turning point in their journey.

Ron stared up at the faces of the old kings, and then looked at Harry, Neville, and Dumbledore.

_To Minas Tirith_, he decided. _I'll go with Boromir to Minas Tirith._

--

Éomer insisted upon carrying his cousin into the palace himself; he would let no one else touch him.

Théoden was resting and not in his throne, but Wormtongue was sitting on the steps when Éomer entered with Théodred in his arms. He immediately stood, mouth agape, as Éomer walked right past him without even a look.

"What is this?!" Wormtongue asked rushing to his side.

Éomer ignored him. He brought Théodred to the room where Théoden had been staying during his illness, and shouted for some guards to retrieve any healers that could be found.

Éomer knelt at Théodred's bedside and grasped his hand. The prince's pulse was faint, but he had survived this long left for dead. He may yet live.

"My cousin," Éomer whispered, holding his hand tightly, and then, with tears in his eyes, "my _brother_…I will not lose you…"

Several healers who had been tending to Théoden during his illness rushed into the room to help the prince. Éomer backed off.

_Éowyn_, he thought suddenly, and he ran to her room to get her.

Éowyn was awake despite the late hour, and appeared to be just preparing for bed. Éomer wasted no time, and said grimly, "Théodred is wounded. He may not live."

Éowyn covered her mouth, then jumped out of bed, wrapping a shawl around her shoulders. Her dog Sirius followed at her heels, and it looked almost concerned, as though it could sense its master's distress.

They entered the sickroom, and when the healers gave Éomer a grim look clearly stating that there was nothing they could go, he dismissed them. Éowyn, with tears in her eyes, knelt before her dying cousin's bed. Although he was still unconscious, Éowyn whispered to him words that Éomer could not hear.

It seemed Théodred would not wake, that he would never wake, but then his eyes slowly opened.

"Wha…" Théodred said.

"Théodred!" Éowyn cried, and she grabbed his hand and squeezed it. "You are safe now…you are home…you shall be well…"

"I am not well," Théodred said weakly.

Éowyn blinked, unsure what to say.

"Did he…tell you?" Théodred asked, his voice almost a whisper.

"What?" Éowyn asked.

"Did…Sirius tell you?"

Éowyn opened her mouth, staring confusedly at Théodred. Éomer frowned. _Sirius? The dog? The injury has damaged his mind as well…_

"Sirius," Théodred said, trying to sit up; Éowyn gently pushed him back down.

"Shh, my cousin," she said softly.

"Sirius," Théodred said firmly. "I must speak with him…did he tell you?"

"You are…you are not thinking well, my cousin…"

"Tell him, when you see him next…tell him that I want him…to take care of you…"

"Théodred…"

Théodred closed his eyes.

"Théodred," Éowyn said, blinking back tears, "you must…be strong…"

"I am very tired," Théodred said, his eyes still closed.

"We must bring the king," Éowyn said, looking over at Éomer. "He must see his son before…"

But Théodred was gone.

There was a long period of silence. Éowyn's eyes were welled up with tears, but they did not escape, and her face was grave.

"Sirius," Éomer said quietly, breaking the silence, and he stared down at the dog.

"My cousin spoke no sense upon his death," Éowyn whispered. "One may only wonder what he could have meant."

--

"This is the lawn of Parth Galen," Aragorn informed the Fellowship. "We shall stop here for a time."

The Fellowship left their boats and gathered on the beautiful grassy shore. There had been no more orc attacks since the night when Legolas had shot the strange, shadowy creature.

After a couple hours of mostly silent resting, Aragorn stood importantly as though about to make a speech, and, addressing every member of the Fellowship, said, "This is the moment in which we must make our final decision. This is the point of no return, the place from which we go to Mordor either joined in Fellowship or separated." He looked at Frodo. "This is the moment for you, Ringbearer, to tell us what you have mind to do."

Frodo hesitated under the stares of the whole Fellowship. Boromir in particular was staring at him imploringly.

"I…must think on it a bit," Frodo said. "Rest a while longer. I shall go for a walk in the forest."

Frodo turned and left, giving a halting glance to Sam to indicate that he wanted to be alone.

A few minutes passed in silence, which Boromir broke by offering to get firewood. Ron immediately agreed to go with him.

The two walked off into the forest, in the same direction Frodo had gone.

"He will not choose to go to Minas Tirith," Boromir said bitterly. "He made his decision long ago…Aragorn made it for him. He merely wishes to give the illusion that he is considering other options."

"I am going to come with you," Ron said quietly.

"Then you shall receive a hero's welcome in my city," Boromir said, grinning. "You may stay, for a time, in a place of glory far greater than any elf house, and then you shall depart with my brother for Mordor."

Ron smiled, then said, "We probably should get some firewood."

"Yes…I shall go this way, and you shall go that way. If Aragorn or another should come upon one of us he would not think that we were scheming against him."

"Good idea."

So Ron and Boromir split ways.

Ron picked up pieces of firewood, thinking to himself what would happen when Frodo announced his decision to continue straight on to Mordor, and Ron announced his decision to leave.

_Dumbledore will be angry. Probably try to lecture me on how childish my decision is. Hermione too. And Harry…Harry will think I've betrayed him. But I don't care. Hermione can snog Legolas all she wants, and Neville and the hobbits can hold everyone back, and by the time Dumbledore and Harry get to Barad-Dur to kill Voldemort, I'll already have gotten Ginny. And I'll bring her home…not Harry…me…_

Ron continued walking along until he had a large stack of firewood. He started heading back the way he had come when he suddenly heard shouting.

Ron approached a clearing in the forest and saw a terrifying sight.

Frodo was staggering backward, falling to the ground, as Boromir lunged at him, shouting, "It should be mine!"

Ron dropped his stack of firewood; Frodo heard, turned to him and cried, "Help!"

Ron stared at him.

"Help!" Frodo repeated, but when Ron showed no signs of desiring to help him, Frodo put on the Ring and vanished.

"You little…" Boromir started, and then he stopped suddenly; he seemed dazed for a moment, then he went into a panic. "Frodo?!" he cried. "Frodo, I am sorry! I did not…I am sorry! Where are you, Frodo?! Please, forgive me! Forgive me!"

Boromir fell to his knees. Ron hesitantly approached.

"I meant no harm," Boromir sobbed. "I meant no harm to him…only…something took hold over me…"

"You tried to take the Ring?"

"I did not…I…I could not have…something took me…a madness…it was not my thought to take the Ring…"

"I understand," Ron said quietly. "When I was holding the Ring, on that mountain…it wasn't me either."

"Then you must find him! You must tell him that I meant no harm to him…it is dangerous for him to put on the Ring…"

"I'll find him. You get back to the others."

Boromir stood and rushed back toward the camp; Ron ran up the hill in the direction he imagined Frodo may have gone.

"Frodo!" Ron called. "Frodo, it's me, Ron! It's all right, Boromir's all right now! You don't have to worry! Frodo!"

Boromir could hear Ron's cries as he headed in the opposite direction, but before he reached the camp, he heard something else.

_An orc horn?_

Boromir ascended a small hill and stared out over some ruins. It was difficult to see through the trees, but there were definitely orcs out there.

Boromir took up the horn of Gondor and let out a blast that Aragorn could not ignore.

And he didn't ignore it. Back at the camp, Aragorn heard it very clearly.

"The Horn of Gondor!" he cried, immediately taking up arms. "Boromir is in need!"

There was a scramble as Aragorn, Legolas, Hermione, and Gimli prepared to follow the sound of Boromir's hornblasts; Sam approached Aragorn hesitantly.

"Do you think Mr. Frodo's with him?" he asked worriedly.

"And Ron?" Harry asked.

"I hope so," Aragorn said. He hesitated a moment, then turned back to the confused others.

"Find Frodo and Ron," he commanded of Dumbledore and Harry.

"What should we do?" Merry asked.

"Remain here. If the enemy approaches, retreat farther into the woodlands. There is a large ruin at the top of a hill. Fall back to that position if this shore is taken."

--

"Are you all right?"

There was a pause.

"I have been thinking," Éowyn said quietly.

Since Théodred's death she had been absent from her room where Sirius had gone to wait for 

her. Now here she was, shivering slightly after what was probably a long walk outside in the cold dark.

"I know how hard…" Sirius started.

"I know what Théodred meant," Éowyn interrupted.

"You…what?"

"When Théodred said that…that you were supposed to tell me something. I know what it was."

Sirius blinked; he suddenly feared that Éowyn might actually be angry with him for concealing her cousin's love. "I…I can explain…"

"There is no need for you to explain. I understand that it would have been most…unpleasant…for you to have told me, especially given the way I went on about Théodred."

"What?"

"I heard you. One night, as I was falling asleep, I heard you whisper that you loved me."

Sirius' jaw dropped; he struggled to think of something to say, but before he could come up with anything Éowyn continued.

"You told Théodred about your feelings," she said. "He advised that you should tell me outright, but you neglected his advice. I imagine he himself had no feelings for me, but wanted you and I to be together. That is why he said you should take care of me…that is why on his deathbed he tried to make sure that I knew how you felt."

Sirius swallowed and was silent. He had been ready to tell Éowyn the truth—that it was Théodred's own feelings which the dying prince had wanted her to know of—but now he wanted to see where this was going.

"I remember so very clearly when we first met," Éowyn continued. "I found you a very intriguing man. But when I looked into your eyes…I saw darkness in your soul. I saw that some terrible grief haunts you. And somehow…that turned me against you. I did not want any part of your grief.

"My parents died when I was young. Since their death the kingdom they died for has been decaying. There is a great sadness among my people, almost a recognition that the end is near. In my brother I see it strongest. I believe that turned me against him as well. I never grew very close to Éomer. There was always a great distance between us. His pessimism disturbed me.

"Théodred never possessed this sadness. In him there was ever love of life and joy at all things. He could see a brilliant future where others saw doom. I suppose I cleaved to him, to his joy, 

because I could find none in myself. He gave me strength.

"But now he is gone, and my uncle the King is near gone himself. Éomer speaks of betrayal by Saruman. Wormtongue's voice rules the court. My hopes of a happy future with Théodred were naught but a childish dream."

Éowyn bowed her head. There were no tears in her eyes; she spoke gravely, as she had at Théodred's death.

"It's easy to lose hope," Sirius said, tentatively reaching out his hand and lifting her chin. "I know…I lost hope once…I lost the person I loved most in the world…and I believed that my sole purpose was to kill a man, that if I could do that then I could lay down and die and end my life…but I've found there's so much more than that…I found my godson…and…and I found you."

"Théodred was a good man," Éowyn said, staring right into Sirius' eyes, "but he was not a wise man. He ignored horrors that should not be ignored, and it was for this reason and no other that I loved him more than I loved you."

"I…"

"Fate brought you to me. Twice. You suffered a great loss before you could come back here, and now I have suffered mine. Perhaps…perhaps we are meant to be together."

"You…you really…"

Éowyn kissed him.

--

Ginny opened her eyes and screamed.

Lucius Malfoy knelt next to her, staring down at her face; he had been reaching out a hand toward her, which reflexively retracted after the scream.

"What do you want?" Ginny demanded, forcing herself to sit in an upright position despite how weak she was.

"My son," Lucius said. "I want him to leave this terrible place with me."

"Why are you here?"

"My son is very attached to you."

There was a pause.

"Are we going to escape?" Ginny whispered.

Lucius smiled sadly. "I had considered it…but it is all very clear to me now how this must end."

He pulled out a knife.

"Wh-what?!" Ginny cried.

"Your death would settle all matters," Lucius said, his eyes glimmering with madness. "You see…we could all leave this dreadful place. Not just here, not just this tower, but the whole bloody world…without you, there is no reason for any of us to stay, is there?"

"I…I'm not that important…"

"I think you are."

"Voldemort…He'll kill you if you touch me…"

"Voldemort will listen to my son. He will let us go."

"And your son? Draco would…he would be angry, if you killed me…he…like you said, he's attached to me…"

"Do not try to fool me!" Lucius spat. "I know your ways. I know your magic."

"I don't know what you're…"

"You lured my son here, day after day, just as you tried to lure me…rather than tell him to escape from this place, you convinced him that it was not harming him…you numbed him to its effects…"

"What?! I haven't done anything to your son! Please…"

"You provide a small candle in a deep darkness, and you lure all to it!"

"Please," Ginny sobbed, "I never meant to do anything to your son…he hasn't even spoken to me in days…he doesn't see me anymore…"

"And that will make this much easier. You are the last thread by which he is tied to this place. Once that thread has been cut, he may leave with me."

"I don't underst…"

The door slammed open.

"Draco!" Ginny wailed. "Draco, please…"

"I know it is difficult," Lucius said, standing up and facing his son, still grasping the knife tightly. "I know you believe she can save you, but nothing can save you from the pressing darkness…"

"You are mad, Father," Draco said quietly. "And you would harm an innocent girl because of something you do not understand."

"You will see," Lucius said, slowly turning toward Ginny. "When she is dead, you will s…"

Draco lunged at his father. Ginny crawled back, staring, wide-eyed, as the father and son fought over the knife in Lucius' hand, trying not to cut themselves as they fell to the ground and wrestled for it…

And then Draco, smashing his father's hand repeatedly against the ground, finally managed to loosen his grip, and the knife went skittering off across the floor.

Draco wasted no time freeing himself from his father's desperately snatching hands; he ran to the knife, picked it up, and pointed it at his father.

"You would kill me, my son?" Lucius asked darkly. "Because that is what it will take. Either you must kill me, or the Dark Lord himself will give me the slow and painful death he believes I deserve for trying to escape this place."

"Draco," Ginny whispered, terrified by the enraged look in Draco's eyes. "You can't…you can't possibly…"

"I was only trying to protect you, my son," Lucius said, his eyes filling with tears. "I was only trying to tear you from the grasp this Darkness has on you…I was trying to spare you the fate of so many others who walked the path of the Death Eaters…to spare you becoming like the Dark Lord himself…"

Draco took a step forward, and seemed for a moment like he was going to lunge at his father with the knife, but then he tossed it aside.

"Oh, thank you, my son," Lucius said; he fell to his knees and then moved toward his son, reaching his arms up. "Thank you for…"

Draco grabbed him by the throat.

Ginny screamed, first in surprise, then in terror, then in hysterical protestation as Lucius' body flailed wildly, Draco's grasp on his father's throat tightening. Ginny sobbed as she screamed, letting out unintelligible words as she begged Draco to stop…

But he did not stop. Lucius suffocated, and Draco stood over his dead body, heaving and looking murderous.

"How could you," Ginny sobbed in a choked voice. "How could you…"

Draco rounded on her.

"He was going to kill you."

"How could you…"

"If I had let him live he would have killed you."

"Your own father…"

"He was going to kill you!" Draco screamed, and he grabbed Ginny's robes and pulled her upright.

"Let go…"

"You should be grateful! You should be thanking me!"

"Let go…"

"I should have let him kill you! He deserved to live! You don't!"

Draco grabbed her throat.

"Draco!"

Draco blinked; Voldemort stood in the doorway, a look of shock on his face.

Draco immediately let go of Ginny, who slumped to the ground, whimpering in terror.

Voldemort's eyes moved to Lucius' body. "Is he…"

"I killed him."

Voldemort blinked, then said quietly, "Come with me."

Draco, feeling remarkably devoid of emotion after his frenzy, followed Voldemort out of Ginny's room and into Voldemort's study.

"Sit down," Voldemort offered.

Draco did not sit.

"Tell me what happened," Voldemort said.

"I killed him."

"Why?"

"He tried to kill Ginny."

"Why did you not merely disarm him, and then come to me?"

"Because I…because I wanted to kill him."

"You wanted to?"

Draco said no more.

"Do not think…that I am upset with you, Draco," Voldemort said softly. "Quite the contrary…I am most…most proud of you."

Draco's eyes widened.

"I could see that Lucius was beginning to lose his mind," Voldemort said. "He was of no use to me…but for you…I knew that you had potential. Such potential. But there was only one way in which…you could truly prove yourself to me…"

"You wanted me to kill my father?" Draco whispered.

Voldemort smiled, and it was not the smile of an evil Dark Lord, but of a father proud of his son. "Yes…you see…when I was your age I killed my father. It was an important step for me…one which I did not expect you to reach so soon…I am so very proud of you, Draco."

Draco blinked, then turned and left the room.

--

"Six!" Hermione shouted cheerfully.

"Ten!" Legolas chimed back.

"Bah, and when did you begin this practice of counting your slain?" Gimli asked, burying his large ax into an orc's torso.

"Just…this very battle," Legolas replied, interrupted briefly as he notched an arrow; after firing, he happily announced, "eleven!"

"Seven…and eight!" Hermione said. "You'll have to start counting, too, Gimli."

"Oh, I am so far behind now," Gimli said with a smile. "But come the next battle, we'll see who has rid the land of more orc scum!"

"You should be glad that I do not count," Aragorn said, smiling as two headless orcs fell to the ground.

The remaining orcs, seeing that they were being routed by people who were not their targets, turned and fled.

"They flee to find the hobbits, I suspect," Gimli said quietly, the humor gone from his face.

"Merry and Pippin are in hiding," Aragorn said reassuringly. "And by this time Sam must have found Frodo, or we would have heard word of it. There are certainly no larger groups of orcs than the ones which we…"

Aragorn was interrupted by the blowing of Boromir's horn.

"I guess you miscalculated," Hermione said, and as the four started to go off in that direction, they heard cries for help.

Harry came running toward them from the opposite direction. "We found Frodo, but so did the orcs…Ron and Dumbledore are trying to fight them off…there's too many of them, they'll be destroyed…"

"Frodo is our priority," Aragorn said suddenly and firmly. "We must protect him."

"Boromir?" Legolas asked worriedly.

"He will have to wait."

"We can't leave him," Hermione said.

"The young hobbits hide near the shore, and it was from there that Boromir's horn seemed to have sounded," Gimli said. "They may be in danger."

"We cannot let the Enemy find the Ring," Aragorn said.

"But…" Hermione said.

"We have hurry!" Harry said angrily.

"I will go to Boromir," Hermione said.

"Very well," Aragorn said. "The rest shall follow Harry."

"She cannot go alone!" Legolas cried.

"I will go with her," Gimli said quickly. "Go on, go on! Frodo will need your help!"

There was a moment of hesitation, and then Legolas, Aragorn, and Harry ran off in the opposite direction.

"Come now," Gimli said, turning toward Boromir's direction.

Hermione smiled. She gripped her bow tightly, ready to stack up double-digit kills. _When I see Legolas again, he'll be amazed at how many I've gotten…_

Gimli and Hermione rushed down toward Boromir's location; there was indeed a great many orcs, all surrounding Boromir. They were taunting him and jeering at him, clearly thinking him outmatched. Gimli and Hermione crept up from behind the orc rabble as Boromir desperately clung to his shield and raised his sword.

"We'll sneak up behind them, lass, and whack the two archers closest," Gimli whispered. "They won't know what hit them!"

"You whack, I'll shoot from here," Hermione said, peering into the crowd. "That one with the white paint all over his face, the big one, looks like the leader. I'll see if I can get a shot at him."

"Good idea."

But while Hermione and Gimli were discussing, Merry, Neville, and Pippin, who had been in hiding on the other side of Boromir, suddenly revealed themselves, not realizing help had finally come for Boromir.

"Hey!" Merry shouted. "Over here!"

"Yeah!" Neville cried, and he, Merry, and Pippin ran off deeper into the woods.

The orcs howled, and Gimli, cursing under his breath, ran forward and took out the two archers who were distracted by the hobbits and didn't see his approach.

Then, everything became chaotic.

The slow-minded orcs faced a moment of indecision as they stared from Boromir to Gimli and Hermione to Neville and the escaping hobbits. Then the large orc whom Hermione had pegged as the leader shouted, "The Halflings! Find the Halflings!"

The orcs obeyed his command, chasing after Merry and Pippin and Neville. Gimli ran after them, but Hermione hesitated when she saw that the orc leader had not followed; he was staring at Boromir with an evil grin on his face.

Boromir raised his sword; the giant orc swung his crude weapon.

Hermione bit her lip; Gimli and the orcs pursuing the hobbits would be lost to her if she didn't go after them now, but Boromir, who looked weary and may not be a match for this orc even at his best, had no help. Aragorn and the others were too far away to call for assistance.

After a few seconds Hermione decided to take advantage of the fact that the huge orc didn't seem to have noticed that she hadn't run off with Gimli. Carefully stepping over the bodies of the two orcs Gimli had slain, Hermione notched an arrow and prepared to aim.

This would be tricky. The orc and Boromir kept exchanging positions as each fought ferociously and very closely. Hermione hadn't missed a target yet, and decided the orc's neck would be the best place to strike, if she could get a good shot at it.

Hermione concentrated on the moving target, wondering how she could pull this off, when suddenly she remembered how Legolas had slain the giant flying beast. She closed her eyes for a moment and cried out, "_Elbereth, Gilthoniel_!"

Just as clearly as she had seen it shining on Legolas' face after he fired, she could now feel it coursing through her—the magic of the elves.

She let loose the arrow, feeling wonderful, her whole body uplifted…

She was still smiling when she first saw it, and the smile was frozen on her face as it slowly began to dawn on her that her arrow was sticking out of Boromir's neck, and a fountain of blood was spurting from the wound where it had impacted. She blinked confusedly as the giant orc smiled evilly at her before turning and running in the direction his comrades had gone, not even bothering to attack her.

Boromir fell to his knees, grasping feebly at the arrow and his bloody neck, and then keeled over sideways. He made awful sputtering sounds as he writhed in the grass.

"Here, this way!" shouted Aragorn's voice from the distance behind her.

Hermione unfroze and was seized with a panic. Aragorn was coming. They were all coming. They were going to find Boromir twitching on the ground with Hermione's arrow in his neck.

Hermione looked around her; her eyes rested on one of the two dead orcs near her feet. Frantically, she grabbed the orc's bow, cut the string with her knife, and threw it a few feet away. Then she cast her quiver onto the ground, the arrows spilling out. She took her own bow and placed it in the dead orc's hand, then grabbed the orc's other hand and, with its spiky gauntlets, scratched her own face until she was sure she was bleeding. Finally, she pulled out a dagger Aragorn had given her and buried it in the orc's neck.

She sat down on the ground and tears began to fall from her eyes.

"Hermione!"

It was Aragorn; he ran toward her, saw Boromir, and froze. Legolas also froze. It was only those two; Harry, Ron, and Dumbledore were nowhere to be seen.

Legolas slowly walked toward the now still and quite dead Boromir; Aragorn rounded on Hermione. "What happened?"

"He w-was…my bow…they took it, the…orc took my bow and…his bow broke, you see, so he…took mine, and…then I killed him, but it was too late…he…"

Hermione was interrupted by a great cry of "No!" from the forest to the south.

"Gimli!" Legolas shouted, and he and Aragorn ran into the woods.

When they returned, Gimli grimly looked at the dead body of Boromir and then informed Hermione that Merry, Pippin, and Neville were gone. They had been taken by the orcs.

"I got the large one, though, the leader," Gimli said. "He came up from behind me, but my axe set him right…"

"This bow has been tainted," Legolas whispered, staring down at Hermione's bow clutched in the orc's hand. "I must make a new one…it shall never touch honest hands again."

_Honest?_ Hermione thought bitterly, and then she looked up to see Gimli staring down at her with a confused frown. His eyes turned toward the dead orc gripping her bow.

_He killed that orc! He knows!_

Gimli looked at Boromir's dead body, and then Hermione. His eyes widened.

"Where are Ron and Harry and the others?" Hermione asked suddenly, breaking Gimli's stare.

"They…chose not to return," Aragorn said mournfully. "Once we had slain the orcs who attacked them they went in search of Frodo and Sam. Ron said that they had snuck to the shore and were departing for Mordor."

"Without us?!" Hermione cried incredulously.

"The Fellowship is broken," Legolas whispered.

"We have failed," Gimli said.

"We have _not_ failed," Aragorn said resolutely. "Their path takes them to Mordor. Ours shall go in another direction."

"What direction?" Hermione asked.

Aragorn thought for a moment. "Merry, Pippin, and Neville cannot be left to torture and certain death at the hands of those orcs."

"Yes," Legolas said. "Else Boromir would have died for nothing."

"We shall track them," Aragorn decided. "But first…first we must rest awhile, and I must prepare Boromir for his final journey, for he fought bravely and deserves nothing less than the respect owed to the greatest of warriors."

--

"Oh, Sam," Frodo said softly. "It almost feels wrong to leave the…"

"Hey, Frodo!" called a voice from the shore.

Frodo and Sam stopped paddling; Harry, Ron, and Dumbledore stood on the shore.

"You thought you were leaving without us?" Harry called jokingly.

Frodo and Sam stared solemnly back. They were not joking.

"We travel to Mordor!" Dumbledore protested. "Why should we not travel together?"

"I would allow it," Frodo said, "save for him."

Frodo stared at Ron.

"How dare you!" Ron shouted. "I've done _nothing_! It was Boromir, not me!"

"You did nothing," Frodo retorted. "And that is precisely why you cannot come."

"What's he talking about?" Harry asked Ron.

"Fine!" Ron shouted. "Go on, then! Destroy your stupid Ring, you and Sam! See how far you lot can make it without me and Harry and Professor Dumbledore! Just see how far!"

Frodo turned away and started paddling; Sam joined in.

"I suppose it is Frodo's choice if he wishes to continue alone," Dumbledore said slowly.

"He should have let us go together," Harry said bitterly.

"Who needs him?" Ron said. "We'll take our own boat, and we'll rescue Ginny."

As the three got into a boat, Ron tried to banish the nagging thought of his promise to Boromir—

that he would go to Minas Tirith with him. It had seemed such a wonderful plan at the time, but since Harry and Dumbledore were about to set off, and especially since he had seen the terrible look in Boromir's eyes when he went after the Ring, Ron felt he had no other choice but to betray his friend.

_He'll understand…when he hears what happened, he'll understand._

--

Éomer slammed the door behind him. _Perhaps he heard that._

But it was unlikely King Théoden had heard the door. He hadn't heard the news of his son's death, not even after Éomer attempted to explain it to him for several minutes. The old king merely peered at Éomer curiously through glassy eyes. Without Wormtongue present, it seemed, the king could comprehend nothing that was spoken to him.

_I need strength…_

Éomer had been up all night attending to the matter of Théodred's death. He had not seen Éowyn since their cousin had spoken his dying words to her. He remembered the look of cold acceptance on her face, the look of strength, and decided that if anyone could console him, it would be her.

As he approached her bedroom door, however, he heard a terrible sound, and quickened his pace. When he opened the door, he stared at her in shock. "Éowyn?!"

Éowyn was sobbing hysterically, her hair ragged, her eyes swollen and her whole face wet. Her bedsheets were in disarray and she lay curled up on one end, hugging her knees.

"He's gone!" she screamed. "He's gone…"

"Éowyn!" Éomer cried, rushing forward and throwing his arms around her; she struggled to escape his grasp, but he held on tightly until she stopped fighting.

"He's gone," she cried hoarsely. "He's gone…"

"Éowyn, it will be all right…"

"No, no…"

"Éowyn, he would never want you to be like this over his death, never…you know how he loved you…he would never want you to grieve…"

Éowyn closed her eyes and shook her head.

Éomer swallowed. He had never seen his sister like this, not even when their parents had died. 

She had always dealt well with tragedies.

"Éowyn," Éomer whispered, "he will be waiting for you, for both of us. Waiting in the Halls of our people, with our greatest warriors. He died so bravely, so honorably. He will be waiting, with our father."

Éowyn opened her eyes and stopped shaking. "Yes," she said distantly. "Yes…Théodred died very bravely…a very brave man, he was…so brave…"

"He died in battle against a terrible foe, and we shall have vengeance," Éomer said. "The orcs who struck him down had the emblem of Saruman. War is coming, and once the king has recovered, we shall muster the Rohirrim and ride against that terrible old wizard. We shall destroy Isengard."

"Yes…yes, of course," Éowyn said, clearing her throat and seeming to have recovered. "We shall…we shall ride…"

"Now get out of this dark prison," Éomer said, looking around her bedroom. "Take a walk outside. Go out to the stables, breathe the fresh air. You can even bring that mangy dog of yours…" Éomer looked over the side of the bed, but Sirius was not there.

"What happened to the dog?" Éomer asked.

"He's gone," Éowyn whispered.

--

"Where are you going?"

"Don't know."

The Mouth of Sauron folded his arms. "Brilliant plan."

"It isn't a plan," Draco said quietly and darkly. "I don't have a plan. I don't need a plan. I just need to go."

"Have you told your master?"

"I'm going to, in a minute."

"And that girl prisoner?"

"I don't give a damn what she knows. She'll figure out soon enough that I'm gone."

The Mouth gave a wide smile. "I see…well, I was sent to inform you that the Dark Lord is rather impressed with you."

"That…oh, you mean…Sauron?"

"Yes…he felt the murder, you see."

"Felt it?"

"Or rather sensed it. Regardless, he finds you quite promising."

"Does he now," Draco muttered.

"Since you do not seem to care where you are going anyway…perhaps you could do a bit of a favor for Him?"

"What kind of favor?"

"The Dark Lord is prepared to offer you a very intelligent beast as your transportation…I…believe you rode one to get here."

"One of those things? How can I get it?"

"If you promise to look for the Ring."

"The Ring? Sauron's Ring?"

"Yes."

"How am I supposed to look for it? It's a Ring, isn't it? Kind of hard to spot."

"The River Anduin is the most probable route that the Ringbearer has taken…they intend to bring it to Minas Tirith, you see. That way they can use the Ring as a weapon from the seat of their power."

"Who?"

"The Men."

"So you want me to look for some River?"

"Yes…and kill the Ringbearer, retrieve the Ring, and return it to the Dark Lord."

"I'm not an assassin. I'm not even a Death Eater."

"The Dark Lord has confidence in you. Your master has also spoken very highly of you."

"If I see your Ring, I'll get it. If I don't, too bad."

"Just as an incentive…the Dark Lord is prepared to give you immortality if you return his Ring."

Draco blinked. "Hm."

"Interested?"

"Sort of."

"I will have arrangements made for one of the Nazgul's beasts to be given to you."

"Thanks."

The Mouth smiled and walked off.

Draco turned and went to Voldemort's study. As usual, the Dark Lord was reading some obscure text, but unusually he rose from his seat and faced Draco, smiling.

"Draco," he said. "Feeling well, I trust?"

"I'm leaving."

Voldemort's smile vanished. "Leaving? Why?"

"I don't know. I just have to…get out of here, is all."

There was a pause, and then Voldemort smiled again. "A…holiday, of sorts," he said. "I understand…perhaps you could pay a visit to Wormtail in Isengard and give me a ring on the palantir."

"I'll see what I can do."

"Excellent…I do hope you return soon, the place will be rather dismal without you."

"I'll return when I'm ready."

"Of course."

Draco turned and left.

Voldemort stared at the closed door, and his smile melted away. For a few seconds, he just stood there, and then, trembling, he sat down. His hand slowly clenched into a fist; he slammed it onto the table, then closed his eyes.

A single tear escaped.

--

Hermione sat with her back against a tree, her eyes closed.

"Lassie."

She opened her eyes. There was no one else nearby; Aragorn had gone off for a walk in the woods, and Legolas was nowhere to be seen.

"Are you all right?" Gimli asked concernedly.

"How could I be all right?" Hermione whispered.

"You should have told the truth," Gimli said slowly.

"No," Hermione said firmly. "They can't know…they can't ever know."

"If you keep this from…"

"Good night," Hermione said, and she stood up and walked off into the woods.

She walked lightly, carefully, her mind wandering, until a sound brought her back to reality. It was a soft, hissing sound, and as she drew nearer to it, she recognized it.

Hermione peered around a tree and saw, glinting in the moonlight, a snake ring on a finger stroking a snake, and then a face.

Aragorn was speaking Parseltongue.

Hermione almost fell over; she grabbed onto the tree for support and then walked as quickly and quietly away as she could, filled with suspicion and doubt and fear, and then one ironic thought:

_Guess I'm not the only one who's hiding something._

END OF PART ONE

--

A/N: Please vote in my poll and let me know whether or not I should add Part Two chapters as a continuation of this story or create a new story as a sequel. Thanks!


	39. Afterward

EPILOGUE

To my Story Alert folks: Part Two is located in a new story which has been posted. I'll delete this document after a few days, just wanted to let you know that the next chapter is up, just as part of a different story.


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